The Education of Sakura Haruno
by DarkFantasy3d
Summary: Betrayed by Sasuke, brutalized by Zabuza, and enslaved by the Akatsuki, Sakura Haruno must teach herself to defeat the most monstrous men of the Shinobi world. Will her lust for revenge bring her peace, or will she fall into darkness and become a monster herself? Brutality, rape, war, genocide, character deaths, dark fiction. Now in Part 2 of 6: The Education of Sasuke Uchiha.
1. The Bridge

**Chapter 1: The Bridge**

* * *

When Sakura awoke, she found herself floating in water. Through bleary eyes, she stared at the clouds above. Her body hurt, especially her right side, and the salty water stung her wounds.

A lazy current carried her. For a moment, she wondered if it wouldn't be such a bad thing to shut her eyes again and let the current take her where it willed. Slowly, her eyes flickered and closed, and the clouds melted into dark oblivion. _No, that wouldn't be such a bad thing at all._

The acrid stench of burning fuel assaulted her nose. _From...the bridge? Tazuna? Kakashi? Sasuke!_

Her eyes opened wide and she thrashed about, fighting to get upright. Fortunately, the water below her was shallow enough to let her stand on the bottom. Still woozy, she rubbed her eyes. A kilometer away, between the wooded shoreline of Land of Waves and the tall cliffs of the Land of Fire, was Tazuna's bridge. It was on fire.

Fear and worry stabbed at her heart. _Did we lose? Then...where are..._

For a minute, she watched the red flames rise from the metal structure, hoping to see signs of her friends. Or of the enemy. Or of anyone. Nothing moved, apart from the inferno and the dense, black smoke rising from it.

Then she spotted something in the water. It was a man's body, floating face-down, being carried by the current. She swam over to him and pulled him back to the shallows. When she turned him over, she saw that he had a gaping cut in his head, one that went halfway through his skull.

_That's very deep. From Zabuza's huge sword?_

She didn't recognize his ugly face or his cheap, trashy clothing. _He's not one of the villagers. He looks like a hired thug._

She let his corpse drift away. _I would say a prayer for you, but I don't know who you are. Or whose side you were fighting for._

She spotted other bodies in the water, all floating silently. Then parts of bodies. Uncomfortable with the idea of sharing the water with corpses, she quickly waded to the shoreline.

At first, they were all strangers, like the thug. Then she spotted a familiar face. It was one of the villagers. _What happened up there? I remember...Kakashi had Zabuza...Sasuke and I had the boy with the mask and...and then I was falling..._

Her eyes locked onto one of the corpses, much smaller than the rest. The body had been cut in half. Only the head and the upper torso bobbled in the water.

She froze. Her insides knotted up as she realized who it was. _I know that face. It's Tazuna's grandson, Inari. But who would...? How could anybody...?_

Tears trickled from her eyes. Unable to restrain herself, she closed her eyes and shouted, "What kind of a monster would cut a little boy in half?"

Someone grabbed the hair at the back of her head and pulled her upwards, forcing her onto her toes. She couldn't turn her head enough to see who it was. Her hand went to the place where her weapons pouch should have been. She heard a laugh that was deep and disturbing. And all-too familiar.

"Speak of the devil and he appears. Isn't that what they say?"

_Zabuza Momochi. The Demon of the Hidden Mist. I'm dead. Unless..._

She drove a blind kick at him. It missed.

_Got to move. Can't fight back like this. If I drop straight down with all my weight, I might just tear out enough of my hair to break free. I know you like girls with long hair, Sasuke, but I can't be with you unless-_

He threw her to the ground and watched as she rolled over to face him. "Get up, little girl. Show me what you've got."

She sprang up and launched a punch at his solar plexus. _Is this what you're looking for, you freak?_

He blocked it easily. "Too weak."

She continued her forward motion, bringing her right knee up into his crotch. _Surprise. Here's my real attack._

He made a slight shift to the side, enough for her knee to miss its target. "Too obvious."

She started to move back, as though trying to get enough distance to set up her next attempt. It was a trick. She grabbed the leather strap around his torso, the one he used to carry his huge sword, and dropped her weight straight down. _That ought to do it. The bigger they are, the harder they-_

He didn't budge. He looked down at her as she hung from the strap. "Too little."

She slammed her feet into the sandy ground and propelled herself backwards. When she hit the ground, she rolled backwards and leapt to her feet. She put her hands together. _I don't know any offensive jutsu yet. If I use the Substitution Jutsu during his next attack, then maybe I can sneak behind him and... Okay, here goes. Tiger, Boar, Ox, Sn-_

"Too late!"

She didn't see his attack. She only felt the pain erupt on the side of her face as the world spun around her. When she regained consciousness, her head was underwater. She jerked upwards and gasped for air, choking violently as she crawled back onto the shore.

He grabbed her by the hair again and pulled her to her feet. "That was pathetic, girl. How _dare_ you go around calling yourself a shinobi."

He drove her into the forest. A dozen meters from the treeline was a stained brown duffel bag. He threw her to the ground beside it. "Pick it up. Carry it."

"Why? What happened to your little partner?"

He glared at her. She thought he might hit her again. Instead, he turned and looked towards the bridge. "He won't be coming."

* * *

They went several kilometers into the woods. As they headed inland, the scent of the sea faded and was replaced by the smells of pine trees and decaying leaves and damp, black earth. In the deepest part of the forest, Sakura saw a strange round house, one built onto the trunk of a tree. It had a cone-shaped wooden roof above and a spiraling ramp below that connected the bottom with the ground. She recognized it as one of the last remaining outposts of the now-defunct Whirlpool ninjas.

Zabuza pointed to a fallen log. "Set the bag down there. I don't want that shit stinking up my place."

He sat on the log and reached into the bag. The first thing he took out was Tazuna's head. "First off, your mission failed. You couldn't protect the bridge-builder. Big surprise, right?"

She crossed her arms and looked away, hoping that a look of petulant disgust would disguise the sick feeling of shame that filled her belly.

Zabuza chuckled at her display. "If you liked that one, you're going to love our next guest."

When she saw the next head, she felt as though her heart was being torn from her body. Nothing could disguise the tears that poured from her eyes. It was Kakashi, her master.

Zabuza run his thumb along the deep gash in Kakashi's skull. "Could have gotten upwards of fifty million ryo if I hadn't cut through that damned Sharingan eye of his. He didn't leave a lot of openings, even after I took his arm off." He tossed the masked head into woods. "Like this, it's only good for feeding the crows."

Sakura fell to her knees and stared at the spot where the head came to rest. She fought to keep herself from openly sobbing.

"It was you that killed him, girl. When you got knocked off the bridge. He couldn't decide whether to save you or the bridgebuilder, and that gave me the perfect opportunity to strike. All that stupid 'I will not allow my comrades to die' bullshit. In the end, he couldn't even save himself."

From the corner of her eye, Sakura saw Zabuza reach into the bag again. _Please. Don't be Sasuke. Don't be Sasuke._

It wasn't. The next head belonged to an old man she had never seen before.

"Biggest disappointment of the day. This was Gatou, the man who hired me to kill the bridgebuilder. Thought he could get away with not paying me for my work. He even hired a gang of cheap thugs to kill me after my job was done. As if." He spat. "Those stupid villagers were an even bigger joke."

Sakura wiped her face. "So Sasuke's...still alive?"

Zabuza's shaved brow furrowed. "I don't know how, but he and that little shit in the orange jumpsuit killed Haku. Didn't think anybody could do that. When they saw me standing over Kakashi and Tazuna, they took off." He leaned toward her. "So why are you so interested in Sasuke? Was he your boyfriend or something?"

"Is." She managed to fake a defiant smile. "He _is_ my boyfriend. He just doesn't know it yet."

"After what he did to you?" He watched her smile fade into a confused stare. "After you got in his way and he knocked you off the bridge?"

"No, it was that boy in the mask. Haku. He did it." She looked down at the ground with a confused look in her eyes. "Didn't he?" Then she snapped her head up and met his gaze with a determined stare. "Of course it was. Sasuke wouldn't do that. He's a Leaf ninja. And my teammate. And he _will _come for me."

"No. And if anybody does come, it'll be to finish what he started." He sliced across his neck with his finger. "I know his type. Right now, he's running back to your village, getting ready to tell them how you betrayed your sensei. Probably practicing his acceptance speech for the 'Ninja of the Year' award."

She crossed her arms and turned away. _Liar._

He reached into the bag and pulled out a blood-soaked plastic pouch. He used the outside of the empty bag to wipe it clean. "This is what I could scrounge from everybody's pockets. I'll be lucky to break even. Take it upstairs and set it next to my bed."

The lower floor of the house was a single circular room. One area was set up to be a kitchen, but the rest was empty except for a table and a few chairs. A staircase on the other side led to the upper floor, which was occupied primarily by Zabuza's massive bed.

When Sakura came back down to the lower floor she saw Zabuza lock the door behind him. "In case you haven't figured it out, you're my new servant. Your job is to cook, clean, and do whatever I say. Got it?"

She put her hands on her hips. "What happens if I refuse?"

He reached back and detached the huge sword from his strap. "Then your head will join Kakashi's out there."

She glared at him as he climbed the stairs. "For how long?"

He stopped half-way up. "Until I get tired of you. Or I find someone better. Or..."

He continued up. "Never mind. Get to work."

While Zabuza lounged on the bed upstairs and counted his loot, Sakura tied back her hair and resigned herself to the tasks of cleaning and preparing the supper. The cleaning part was easy. The place was already immaculate. _It must have been the boy in the mask. Zabuza doesn't seem the type who would wash himself, let alone scrub floors to perfection._

As she chopped the vegetables for the supper, she kept looking out of the window, waiting for Sasuke to appear. _Or Naruto. Scratch that. Naruto held his own against Zabuza the first time, but that was beginner's luck. If he tried it again, that _thing _upstairs would cut him in half. Just like Inari._

_And Kakashi-sensei._

_And all those people on the bridge._

But Sasuke was different. _He wouldn't die. He couldn't. He's like the hero in a boy's comic book: dark, brooding, mysterious, and definitely bad-ass. And very handsome. In that dark, brooding, mysterious sort of way. He would defeat the bad guy and rescue the damsel in distress. That's his destiny._

She finished chopping the last piece of carrot and sighed. _I wish it wasn't my destiny to be the damsel. Because I'm not one. I'm a proud kunoichi of the Leaf Village. I can fight. I can take down a grown man with one hand. I can perform ninjutsu. I can even climb a tree with only my feet._

_But Zabuza was right. Next to him, I'm just a little girl, playing pretend. If had a weapon, then-_

"Dinner ready yet, girl?"

Sakura looked down, deflated. Then she realized what she had been doing for the last ten minutes. A smile crept across her face.

"A few more minutes. I still have to stir-fry the veggies. I'll call you when I'm ready for you."

* * *

Zabuza pushed his plate away after a few bites. "You didn't put any meat in it?"

Sakura continued to eat. "Vegetables are good for you. And besides, you didn't have any meat."

"There's squirrels outside. Birds. There's Haku's fucking snow rabbit out back." He stared into the crimson tablecloth. "It's not like he's gonna need it anymore."

"Your friend, was he-"

He shot her an evil look. "He wasn't my friend. He was my tool. My sledgehammer. When I saw what he could do, I knew the Mizukage's skinny little neck was finally mine."

She paused for a moment when she saw Zabuza clenching his table napkin. His knuckles were turning white.

She resumed her meal. She was starving. She had put on nearly half a kilogram in the previous week and skipped yesterday's dinner as penance. _And I threw up this morning's breakfast, too. Worst possible time. But I need to eat. I need to keep my strength up. Staying beautiful for Sasuke won't matter if I can't escape from here._

He released his grip on the napkin and then tossed it onto his plate. Dark, wet stains appeared on the red linen as it began to soak up her sauce.

"What's for dessert, girl?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't make one. Usually, I don't-"

She winced as the legs of his chair screeched against the tile floor. He rose and stood close beside her.

She set her chopsticks down. The musky odor of his filthy body made it impossible for her to continue. She let her hand fall casually to her side. Her fingers curled under the side of her chair and felt for the handle of the knife.

She noticed that his hands were bunching into fists. She could almost feel the intensity of his stare on the side of her face.

_It's a matter of timing. He won't strike quickly. He'll draw it out. He'll bring his hand back and wait until I see that he's done it. Then - when he sees the fear in my eyes, when he sees me start to raise my guard - that's when he'll do it. Right in the face._

_Only one opportunity. The moment he launches his fist. That's when I duck under. That's when I stick it in him._

From the corner of his eye, she saw his right hand move up. She suppressed a smile as she clenched the handle.

But he didn't raise his fist. His hand began to unfasten the buttons of his striped trousers.

She looked over at him, wondering why he would do something that silly at the dinner table. That's when she felt his left hand clench her hair and pull her face into his crotch.

Confused, she squirmed for a moment. Then she pulled the knife from its hiding place.

It was no good. She was off-balance and her movements were slow. He easily grabbed her wrist with his right hand and twisted it until the blade was pointed at her head. He pulled it toward her until the tip dug into the side of her skull.

She relaxed her grip on the knife; he relaxed his grip on her head. He wrenched the knife from her hand and threw it across the room. It stuck into the cutting board, still drying by the sink.

She pulled away and wiped her mouth. He reached over and shoved her plate off the side of the table, showering the spotless floor with rice and vegetables and broken china.

He grabbed her, pulled her up, and threw her face-down onto the table. His body pressed against hers, trapping her thighs against the edge of the table. She shrieked when she felt him yank down her shorts and underwear.

"I'm sorry! You don't have to spank me. I'll make you something. Just let me-"

She froze when she felt his penis rest on her buttocks. _Oh God._

He reached over to his plate and dabbed his fingers in the thick sauce. Then she felt him slather it on her backside and on himself.

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was saving myself for you, Sasuke, but-_

He plunged in. She admitted half his length before her unsuspecting anus clamped down on it.

She couldn't speak, or think, or breathe. What was happening to her was incomprehensible, absolutely beyond the realm of possibility. Finally, when the cramping pain could no longer be ignored, she started screaming and flailing, kicking her legs and pushing against the table. It made no difference. His strength completely overpowered hers.

He pressed in. She valiantly fought against his invasion but gave up ground to his continual assault. _Oh my God. I can feel him. Inside me. Inside my-_

He pulled back and then thrust in again. Hard. Her back arched as a pathetic wail escaped her throat.

His hips slammed against her, impaling her again and again. Each time, his disgusting testicles bounced against her vulva and she fought the strange, sick feelings churning inside her belly.

His pounding got worse. His wine glass fell over and the foul-smelling liquid dripped onto the floor. The salt and pepper shakers toppled as the chopsticks softly rattled on his plate

Unable to cope, she stared at a grain of salt from the spilled shaker. It was a cube. Cool. Smooth. Translucent. Serene. _A world without-_

"Wake up!" His hand slammed the table. "Do not blank out on me. Don't pretend like you're somewhere else. Be here! Feel this!"

He fucked her even harder, grunting like an animal as his sweat dripped onto her. He grabbed her hair and pulled back, making her head rise up and bob. She felt like a horse in some obscene race and she prayed that the finish line was near.

He made one mighty thrust and remained inside of her as he yanked back on her head. He made a loud grunt, followed by several more. _Oh God. I can feel it shooting inside me. Did I die? Is this Hell? How can Hell be any worse than-_

He pulled out. Her body collapsed and she laid on the table like a discarded rag doll. She heard him slide his pants up, re-button his fly, and then spit on her floor.

In a weak voice, she said, "Why?"

His footsteps pounded their way to her. Then she felt him grab her hair yet again. He shoved his snarling face in hers.

"Because you need to learn this! This is what the real shinobi world is all about. Fucking and being fucked."

He released his grip and let her head fall. His angry expression softened.

"Because Haku could never understand that. And that's why he's dead."

He slowly shuffled to the stairs. "And get this shit cleaned up."

A few minutes later, after the light from the upstairs floor went out, she pulled her shorts up, laid on the floor, and curled into a ball. Her body throbbed, and her tears did not stop until she passed out sometime after midnight.


	2. The Bath

**Chapter 2: The Bath**

* * *

By the middle of the next afternoon, Sakura had finished scrubbing the floors, beating the rugs, dusting the furniture, and washing the clothes. She was about to sit and take a break when Zabuza ordered her to heat up more water. She glared at the staircase and performed an obscene gesture. In a whisper, she said, "Are you going to stay up there all day, doing _nothing_?

Almost immediately, he bellowed his reply. "Yes! Hot water. No back talk."

Her body was still in pain from last night. The muscles of her hips hurt the worst, followed by her aching legs and back. The motions of housework helped a little but her body was still very stiff. She didn't want to think about the pains in her bottom, and she was thankful there were no traces of blood when she wiped herself that morning.

When the water was hot, he ordered her to pour it in the wooden basin outside. As she lugged the steaming cauldron through the door, she saw him descend the staircase in a thin cotton robe, armed with a towel, a sponge, and a bar of soap.

"Care to join me?" He sniffed as he squeezed past her in the doorway. "You sure need it."

She struggled to get her burden down the ramp without scalding herself. "No, but thank you - ow! - very much for asking, kind sir. I'm a little too - OW! - busy for that right - dammit! - right now. Perhaps there might be a convenient moment later when I could - FUCK!"

He stepped out of his sandals and stood in the basin. "Such language from a proper young kunoichi of the Leaf Village? I'm shocked."

When she finished pouring the water, she turned to leave. He grabbed her arm. "No. Not yet. You have to attend me."

"Attend you? What's that supposed to-"

She was surprised when he handed her the towel, the sponge, the soap...and then his robe. She turned around, her face red.

She had to stand on the edge of the basin to reach his hair. He offered to kneel for her. She refused, telling him that she didn't need any help from a child-killer.

"Still hung up about that kid on the bridge? He was armed. He had a crossbow. He thought he was the quite the little ass-kicker until he saw his intestines pouring out."

She frowned as she lathered his hair. "A real shinobi wouldn't-"

He reached back and slapped her leg. "Don't lecture me about being a real shinobi, little girl. I won't take that shit from somebody like you."

He put his head back while she rinsed his hair. The angry look on his face faded as she lathered his back and his massive shoulders.

"So tell me, girl. What does it mean to be a real shinobi? I'm all ears."

"Well, okay. A shinobi is the protector of his village and his nation. He fights for honor, justice, and peace. His loyalty to his comrades is matched by his obedience to the Hokage. A shinobi never allows himself to be-"

"You really believe that schoolhouse bullshit? That you're fighting for honor and justice and all that other crap?"

"Yes." She came around and began to scrubbing his muscular chest. She looked up into his dark eyes. "Yes I do."

"Then you're an idiot. All that stuff they told you were lies. Your ability to kill is the only thing that matters to them."

"No. In my village, we have the Will of Fire. Our people look out for each other. They _care _about each other. If someone's in trouble, they-"

"Does that include Sasuke? Your little boyfriend? Was he being loyal to his comrades when he knocked you in the water?"

She threw down the sponge. "That was Haku!" She wiped the sweat from her forehead. "I think. Okay, I don't remember that part very well. But if Sasuke did do it, then it must have been an accident. It's not like he meant it. You're trying to turn it into something horrible. Sasuke's a good guy. Everybody in my village is."

She retrieved her sponge and began soaping it up again. "You'll see. He'll come back for me. And then you'll see what a real shinobi is all about."

He was silent for a moment. When he spoke, she was struck by his odd, low tone. "Yes, little girl. They will come for you. And when they do, you'll see what the whole shinobi world is all about."

She scrubbed down to his waistline, careful not to look at his private parts. "Ready to be rinsed off?"

"You missed a spot." He moved his feet apart, spreading his legs. "Don't forget to wash in between."

She averted her eyes and washed the area around his privates. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face in, her nose almost touching his penis. The dull ache in her bottom flared she stared at the dark flesh dangling before her. It looked as massive as it had felt.

"I told you that you missed a spot. Wash it." He released his grip.

Using just the tips of her fingers, she timidly reached out and lifted his flesh. Her face was twisted up by a mixture of horror and disgust. She remembered a time when she was a little girl and her mother told her to put some object down, telling her that she didn't know where it had been. This time, Sakura knew perfectly well where it had been, and the memory of that terrible invasion made her stomach sick.

He slapped her hand away. "Don't hold it like that. A shinobi's body is a weapon. Every part of him is a weapon." He seized her hand and pulled it toward him, laying his penis across her palm. "Like this. Like you're holding a kunai. Now wash me."

She didn't move. A maelstrom was twirling in her gut as she stood with her mouth open, trying to keep the tears back. The storm inside grew worse as he felt him stiffen in her hand.

"Dick." He moved her hand to the velvet-smooth sack below, turning her wrist until his testicles were resting in in her palm. "Balls." Then he moved her hand back until the tip of her middle finger was between the warm, hairy globes of his buttocks. "Ass. These are my weapons. Now clean them."

It was too much for her. She pulled her hand back and faced away. "Why are you making me do this? Why don't- Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?"

"Because your team killed my servant. Because you owe me. And because a good servant does this for his master." She heard him pick up the dripping sponge. "And as far as killing you, I'll do that when you stop being of use to me. In other words, like you're being right now. Is that really what you want?"

Eventually, she turned around and wiped the tears from her eyes. "No."

"No, what?"

She glared at him with a look that burned with furious hatred. Then the green fire in her eyes flickered and diminished. _If I die here, then I'll never see Sasuke again. Or my parents. Or the village. Or even Naruto, the little doofus._

Her gaze trailed down until she was looking at her feet. Tears dripped onto her boots, still damp from the day before.

"No, _Master_." She reached forward and completed her task.

* * *

She was supposed to be chopping the vegetables for the supper. Instead, she was watching Zabuza through the window as he practiced his sword techniques. His massive blade flew effortlessly through the air. The knife in her hand matched his movements. Up. Back. Turn. Parry. Slice.

Her last "slice" was poorly done. The cleaver slipped from her fingers and fell into the empty sink with a loud clatter. She stared at it, disgusted with herself._ I hesitated. Even now, when I imagined I was slicing his neck, I hesitated._

She looked out of the window as she rinsed off the knife. Zabuza was gone. A moment later, she heard his heavy footsteps coming up the ramp.

He walked through the door with the white rabbit from the hutch. "I brought a friend for dinner."

She smiled. "That's so cute! I'll cut up another carrot for him." The smile evaporated when she remembered what he said last night. "Oh."

He presented it to her. "Will you do the honors?"

She looked at his chest, unable to look at the rabbit directly. "Well, I... I mean, I've never..."

"Now's your chance. Kill it."

"I don't know how. I mean, do you just-"

He gently wrapped his hand around the back of its neck. "Hold the back feet like this and put your hand around its neck like that. Then you give it a quick pull...like this. That dislocates the neck. Quick and painless."

He gave her the rabbit. She slowly placed her hands where his had been.

He spoke softly. "Just a quick tug. Make it a good one. Don't want to cause any unnecessary pain, do you?"

She could feel the warm blood pulsing through the arteries in its neck. "No. I don't. It's just... I've never..."

"Killed anything? Here is your golden opportunity. Easiest thing in the world. Just give it a good tug and it's over."

She looked down. It was looking back at her and wiggling its nose. Its whiskers tickled the edge of her hand. "Oh God. I don't think I can-"

"You have to. I'm leaving in a couple of days. If you don't kill that cute little bunny, I'm going to put it back in it's hutch and leave it there. Then I'll cut off your head and put it on a stake right in front its little door. Over the next few weeks, as it slowly starves to death, it will have nothing to do but curse your name, over and over, saying 'Why didn't you end my life when you had the chance? Why are you making me suffer like this? Why, Mommy, why?' And you know what you'll say? Nothing! Because you'll be a fucking dead head on a stick, and I'll be in the Land of Lightning, doing my job like a real shinobi, and not spending a single second thinking about either one of your worthless asses. So put the little fucker out of its misery already and get the goddamned dinner on the table. I'm starving."

She stared at the floor, her eyes opened wide with fright.

He slammed the counter with his fist. "Look me in the eyes! Always look the enemy in the eyes. Up here! My eyes are up here!"

She trembled as she looked up at his scowling face, into his dark, brutal eyes.

He bared his ugly, pointed teeth. "Then think about me. Imagine it's my neck. Just one quick pull and there I go, just-"

"I can't! I can't do that!"

"The boy, then. Think about the little boy. About my sword, cutting right through him. About his mother, screaming and crying and-"

They both heard the pop as the neck dislocated. They both saw that, at the crucial moment, her eyes did not blink.

A hideous grin appeared on his wretched face. "Outstanding. There's hope for you yet, girl. Give it here. I'll dress the carcass while you finish the vegetables."

Inside her, a light had gone out, one that could never be re-lit. A numbness filled her as she handed him the limp, white bundle of fur and meat. She picked up her cleaver and silently finished cutting the carrots.

* * *

She didn't eat. There didn't seem to be a point in eating anymore. She watched him with dead eyes as he finished his supper and then grabbed hers.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Good job today, girl. Clean house, clean clothes, clean bodies." He nodded to the blue yukata that Sakura was wearing. "And you're looking pretty good in Haku's old clothes. Outstanding dinner, as well. Meaty. Delicious."

She continued to stare into the tablecloth. She looked terrible in blue; that's why she chose the blue yukata. Not that it mattered. He was going to subject her to something horrible no matter how she looked.

He reached into his pocket and tossed her a small plastic packet. Inside of it was a jumble of herbs and dried flower petals. "Heat up some water. Make a tea out of that. Tonight's dessert."

He had finished eating by the time she returned with the evil-smelling brew. She set it in front of him. He looked at her. "It's not for me. Drink it. All of it."

"Is it poison?"

"Like I'm going to waste good poison when I've got my blade. Just drink it. It's a muscle relaxer. Your body won't hurt so much. Very effective but slightly narcotic. I won't let you use it after tonight. Go on. Drink up."

She did as he instructed. It didn't taste nearly as bad as it smelled. When she finished, her head began to feel a little funny.

He rose from the table and led her to the staircase. "Come on. When it hits, you'll have trouble getting up the stairs."

He was right. Her legs started to buckle near the top step. He picked her up and carried her to the bed.

"Roll over, girl. Get on your belly. Spread your legs a little."

She rolled over. The pain in her muscles was fading and her body felt warm and heavy. She felt cool air on her backside as he pulled up the edge of her yukata. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

Her eyes snapped open when she felt him softly kissing her buttocks. His mouth moved from her right cheek to her left and back again, each time getting closer to the middle. When it did, she felt his tongue trace a path from the bottom of her spine down to the place where no tongue should ever go.

She drew in her breath when his tongue penetrated her anus. The tiny soft licks he gave her made her insides feel nervous. Under different circumstances, she might have considered these feelings pleasant in some perverse way. As he continued, she could feel her resistance to his intrusions erode.

After a few minutes, he lift his head. "Do you know why I'm doing this?"

The room was turning around her. "Because it's the most absolutely disgusting thing you could possibly think of?"

He chuckled. "I'm trying to open you up. The muscle relaxer can only do so much. You were a good girl today. This is your reward."

He jumped up out of bed and returned a few seconds later. He dripped something slippery onto her butt. His fingers began stroking her anus, softly moving in circles around it. He patiently waited for her to relax.

She sucked in air when she felt his finger enter her. Her muscles clamped down on it, though not as hard as they did last night. He kept it inside her and waited for the tension to release.

_This is _not _comfortable, no matter what he might think. I wish he'd take it out. Or just get it over with. There's nothing to distract me here. Just the bed. The pillows. His scent. And somebody else's. The boy? _She sniffed the sleeve of Haku's yukata. _That's him, alright. I wonder what they-_

Her heart dropped. She felt herself tighten around his finger. "The boy. Haku. Did you ever...touch him? Like this?"

"All the time. He was my servant. My tool."

"How old was he? The first time, I mean."

"Eight."

_Oh God. Oh my God._

"He was great. He opened himself to me, like a flower. Didn't have to explain anything. He knew exactly how to be fucked. Anything I said, he did. He was completely ready to suffer any hardship, take on any task, sacrifice anything and everything. All for his dear master."

He started moving his finger in and out. "But he couldn't _fuck_. He couldn't kill, not without forcing himself to do it. He was too kind and gentle for that. He could never grab his anger and turn it into a weapon. He couldn't bring himself to kill your two friends. And that's why he's dead."

He shoved a second finger in her and her back arched. He watched her as she gripped the bedsheets. "Your little boyfriend. Sasuke. He knows how to fuck. He loves to fuck. His type always does. He'll fuck anything or anybody. He fucked you, didn't he? Back on the bridge?"

"Liar."

He slapped her bottom and she felt her anus grip his fingers tightly. "Show respect."

He waited for her to relax again. "It's because guys like that are afraid of being fucked. They would rather kill the whole world than to submit to someone else's desires."

He slowly started to thrust his fingers into her. "A real shinobi must do both. He must submit to the will of his superiors and his customers, and he must be able to kill without hesitation or mercy. He must be willing to fuck and to be fucked."

His fingers moved with longer strokes. In one swift motion, he pulled out his fingers and inserted his oversized erection. She arched her back and tried to shake him off, like a wild horse trying to buck an unwelcome rider. It was hopeless. He pressed his weight onto her, keeping his hot flesh implanted in hers.

After a minute, she started to relax again. He moved his hips, slowly fucking her. She closed her eyes tightly, trying not to picture a massive, venomous snake slithering in and out of her body.

"Relax, girl. Let it happen. Let your body accept it. It's important to learn this. If you want to be a real ninja."

"Is that what you think a 'real' ninja is? A whore and a murderer?"

He was starting to sweat. "Not my definition. That's the way of the shinobi world. I learned that the hard way. And so will you."

She heard him start to make soft grunts. _I will never accept this. Or your messed-up version of reality._

"Can't hold it when it's slow like this. Too intense. I'm gonna-"

His body spasmed, again and again. She tried to ignore the sickening feel of his hot semen pumping into her.

She felt him pull out. She immediately relaxed. If there was a single positive thing about this day, it was that her bottom was not throbbing with pain. There was only a dull ache, one she could ignore if a chance to escape presented itself.

She rolled over, forgetting that her yukata was still bunched around her waist. She pushed the bottom of it down to cover herself.

She was getting very loopy. "I know why you like doing it in my bottom. Because that way, you don't have to look at my ugly face."

He laughed. "My, my. Self-esteem issues."

She lifted her heavy head. "Are you gay?"

"No, though I've certainly fucked enough men to qualify. Why? Do gay men turn you on?"

She tried to craft an appropriate response, but she was too befuddled. Instead, she said, "You think you could have the common decency to rape me like a girl next time?" She immediately regretted her words and she let her head fall back onto the mattress.

"Well, since it's a special request, I'll have to put it on my calendar for tomorrow."

She closed her eyes and listened to him go down the stairs. A minute later, she heard the door of the latrine outside slam shut.

She felt herself slipping away into dreamland. _If you're coming to rescue me Sasuke, then you better do it quick. My time is running out._


	3. The Will of Fire

**Chapter 3: The Will of Fire**

* * *

On the evening of the third day, Sakura sat at the table and pushed a slice of carrot back and forth on her plate, trying to think of something other than the words 'rape me like a girl.'

Zabuza took another swig of saké from his bottle. "Better eat, girl. Keep your strength up. You're going to need it."

She set her chopsticks down and stared at the salt shaker. The words in her head faded but that gave her no relief. Other memories filled the void: his hot skin against her bottom, his sweat dripping on her back, the grunts, the helplessness. The cramping pain as he thrust again and again and again, like a machine. The terror that crawled in her belly like a thousand venomous spiders.

"I'm not hungry."

She took her plate to the sink. She stared through the window at the darkening forest as she scraped her food into the trash. _If you're coming for me Sasuke, then please come now. Please._

She heard him slide his chair back. The terror inside her peaked.

He shoved the cork into his bottle and tamped it down with his fist. "Time for dessert, girl. Upstairs."

He motioned for her to go first. She climbed the stairs, knowing that his eyes were tracing paths on her backside that his filthy hands would soon follow. Once upstairs, he moved past her and laid across the bed, facing her. He pointed to the spot where he wanted her to stand.

"Strip. All of it."

Though she had already been sodomized by him - twice - she hesitated after she unhooked her bra. No man, not even her father, had seen her bare chest since she was three years old. Her hand trembled as she pulled it off. Her cheeks blushed so fiercely that they stung. Never in her life, not even when bent over the table, had she felt so naked. She stared at the floor, unable to stomach the thought of him leering at her.

"Panties off. Let's see the treasure."

She took a breath, exhaled slowly, and then slid her panties down, keeping her knees as close together as possible. Strangely, she felt less naked with nothing on than she did in only her underwear. _Like being at the bath house. Except, of course, for the lecherous child killer in pin-striped pants, rubbing his crotch while he studies mine._

He patted the bed. She took another breath and went to lie beside him. She crossed her arms over her chest and kept her legs together. His first act, of course, was to grab her knees and pry them apart. Fully exposed, he crawled between her legs until his face was only centimeters from the dark crimson wisps of her pubic hair. For a full minute he did nothing but stare at her. Then he used his thumbs to part her flesh, opening places that no one had ever seen.

She covered her face with her hands. "Why are you _looking _at it? Just _do_ it already."

"Never seen one. Not up close."

She removed her hands and looked at him with wide-open eyes. "You're a-a virgin?"

He scowled at her. "A man can't be a virgin. Though, if one could, I suppose I qualify."

"But haven't you...? I mean, all that stuff about-"

"Just men. Not that I like men. I don't want to get all kissy-kissy with them. I just like fucking them. To feel their asses fight against me. To finally plunge in and savor their warm, quivering defeat. To hear them beg and plead and moan, like whipped dogs."

She put her head back down and stared up at the ceiling. "Like with me."

"Yes. Exactly. That was a great fuck. I never dreamed that a girl's ass could be so..._sweet_."

Sakura didn't have to look. She could tell from the sound of his voice that he was grinning and showing his pointed teeth. "And what about you? You said you were a _real _shinobi. When has anybody ever fucked _you_?"

"The first time? I was six years old. My parents died 'dishonorably,' and I couldn't be taken in by other families or attend the Ninja School. All I had was myself." He paused for a moment. "He was a jounin. He said he would give me food. He lied."

She glanced down at him as he propped himself up on his elbows. She wasn't sure how she should feel about his confession.

"I've never had the opportunity to fuck a woman. I've spent my life in the company of men. Of killers. After my little massacre at the Ninja School, they put me in a hunter squad. Hunters go after rogue ninjas, just like your ANBU teams. Very dangerous work. They figured I'd get killed off pretty quick."

She felt herself being parted again. Then she felt his hot breath between her legs.

"For three years, I was the bottom man on the squad. Or the bottom boy, as they called me. I had to shine their boots, cook their meals, clean their weapons, do their laundry."

He ran his finger along the divide between her buttocks. She shuddered.

"And provide them with _entertainment_. Whenever they wanted. However they wanted it."

She felt his tongue trace her parted outer lips, up one side and down the other. She shuddered again, but not in the same way. This time, the quivering came from somewhere else. She closed her eyes. If she had been with anyone else, she might have called this feeling pleasure; if it was Sasuke, she would have called it desire.

But it wasn't Sasuke, and there was no way this could be considered pleasure. That was impossible. The _thing_ between her legs was Zabuza Momochi, the demon ninja of the Hidden Mist. _Zabuza, the murderer. The molester. The liar._

"What I did to you these past two nights has been done to me a thousand times." He paused is as calculating a sum. "Yeah. At least a thousand. But it made a shinobi out of me. More than anything, it made me want to get stronger than the men who fucked me, night after night, laughing every time I screamed."

She felt him stick the tip of his finger into her vagina. Her knees shook. With his other hand, he spread her wider. "Is this it? Your hymen or whatever it's called? That thing that makes you a virgin?"

She closed her eyes tighter. "Yes. I guess. It's not like I've ever _looked _at it."

She felt him pull his finger out. She slowly opened her eyes halfway and stared up at the ceiling again. Then she felt his mouth on her. He inserted his tongue where his finger had been. She shut her eyes very tightly and buried her face with her hands.

She heard when experiencing intolerable pain, a person's spirit could sometimes leave their physical body and travel about on its own. She wondered if the powers above might grant her such a blessing.

He pulled his mouth from her. She could still feel his breath on her skin. "At first, I didn't know anything. No ninjutsu, no genjutsu, no nothing. All I knew about fighting was what I picked up on the streets. But I knew what it meant to have to kill people to survive. And not a single one of those smug little brats at the Ninja School had a fucking clue about that. Just like you, little girl. They just stood there, like obedient little lambs, watching in horror while I ripped them apart, one by one."

"How can you just kill children like that? How can-"

He grabbed her patch of pubic hair and pulled. She arched her back, sucked in her breath, and slapped the bed with her palms.

"Because I _wanted _to. Because I had to. Because my life wasn't worth shit in the Hidden Mist and I had nowhere else to go. Because they all wanted me to fuck off and die for their goddamned convenience. Because I reminded them of everything that was ugly and obscene about their little world."

He released his grip. "Like I said, all that matters to them is your ability to kill. That's it. It was the only way I could prove my worth. And survive."

She lifted her head to look at him. "So you killed a hundred kids...to prove that you were a good killer?"

He flashed her an evil smile. "And to get rid of the competition." His smile widened. "And because it felt so..._good_. Some people say that living well is the best revenge. Fuck that shit. I say _revenge _is the best revenge."

He stared at her and ran his finger along her lips. He saw her hips buck. "The hunters wouldn't teach me anything. I had to steal everything I needed. Everytime someone exposed their jutsu, I copied their technique, practicing in secret until I mastered it. One by one, I surpassed them all. Eventually, I was the one doing all the fucking and they were the ones doing all the screaming."

His finger touched the place where her inner lips joined. "Is this it? Your clit?"

She jumped. "Yes! Yes, that's it alright."

"Clit. Cunt. Ass," he said, touching her in the places he named. He reached up. "Tit. Those are _your _weapons."

He crawled toward her until his face was above hers. "Time for us to do battle. My weapons against yours."

She squirmed out from under him and leapt off the bed. "I have to go to the bathroom first." She pulled on her panties and nervously started strapping on her bra. "I'll just be a minute."

He laid back and watched his erection sag. "I'll give you exactly five minutes. Then I'm coming after you."

"S-sure. I'll be back by then." She reached for the yukata.

"No. No more clothes. What you've got on is enough for you to take a shit and come back."

As she descended the staircase, she heard him call out. "Better hurry up, girl. Four minutes, forty-five seconds. Forty. Thirty-five."

Outside, Sakura opened the latrine door and let it shut loudly. It was a useless gesture, unlikely to fool anyone, especially Zabuza.

_If I run, I'll be dead in four minutes. If I go upstairs, I'll stay alive. For a while. As Zubuza's whore. Listening to his lies._

She peered into the dark forest. _And out there, somewhere, is the truth. The real truth. And Sasuke._

The underbrush whipped her nearly-naked body as she tore through the woods. She ran west, keeping the moon at her back. _As soon as I see the water, I'll dive in and swim across. He can't swim very fast, not with that heavy sword._

Then she remembered that he could walk on the surface of the water. _Doesn't matter. Just keep going. Got to find Sasuke. No matter what._

She forced herself to not think about time, about the seconds that were slipping away. Or Kakashi's head. Or Inari's torso, floating. His little face. _Oh God. How could anyone do that to a-_

_Run! Faster! Look for the water! Don't stop. Don't look back. If you do, he's going to-_

She stopped. Somebody else was was here, in front of her, less twenty meters away. _It's a man. I can smell him_.

He was hiding in the shadows. Beyond him, she could smell the sea. She saw flashes through the trees, reflections of moonlight on the faces of waves, half a kilometer away.

_One more minute and I could have gotten away._

The figure stepped into the moonlight. He wasn't as nearly tall as Zabuza. He was about Sasuke's height, with dark hair and dark clothing.

_Sasuke?_

_No. He doesn't move like Sasuke. He seems too...feminine? And he certainly doesn't smell like a girl. And his face. Is that a mask?_

_It's that boy from the bridge. Haku._

_No, stupid. Haku's dead. Or was that another one of Zabuza's lies?_

The masked figure spoke. "Sakura Haruno? Of the Leaf Village?"

It wasn't Haku's voice. It was too flat, too lacking in emotion. _And it's not Sasuke's voice, either._

She squinted. In the moonlight, she could just make out the stylized bird symbol on his headband.

She smiled. For the first time in three days, she felt like she could breathe again. _He's a Leaf Village ANBU. I made it. I'm saved._

"Yes. I'm Sakura. Have you come for me?"

"Yes, Sakura." said the figure. "I have come for you."

She saw his kunai and ducked. It stabbed the tree behind her, at the spot where her heart would have been. Something inside her told her to move and she listened to it. As she threw herself behind another tree, the explosive tag on the handle of his kunai went off. The shattered trunk creaked and groaned and crashed to the ground beside her.

She saw him reach into his pouch for another weapon. She began to form the handsigns for the Substitution Jutsu. Her eyes focused on two large shards of wood from the fallen tree. _I'll use Substitution twice, moving in closer each time. When I'm too close for explosive tags, I'll fake a Substitution. As long as he doesn't hit anything vital, I'll be close enough to stab him with his own kunai. Okay, one more handsign and I'm-_

She froze. He didn't pull a kunai from his pouch. It was a book.

_He's going to read? Like Kakashi-sensei? No, that can't be right. There. In his other hand. A brush?_

The masked figure started drawing in his book. His brush fluttered across the page like a spastic hummingbird. He then formed a handsign and two dark creatures leapt from the paper. They were lions; rather, they appeared to be life-sized drawings of lions, set in motion by his mysterious jutsu.

The two lions approached from her left and right, sniffing the air. The masked man moved back into the shadows.

_Substitution won't work. I can't fool their sense of smell. And I don't have any weapons. I'm going to die here, torn to pieces in some godforsaken wilderness. In my underwear._

On either side, the lions crept into position. Ears back, fangs bared, they crouched as they prepared to strike.

She hid her face in her hands. _Mom. Dad. I'm sorry. I failed. I guess this is-_

She felt something wet on her wrist. She opened her eyes and saw that it was a blob of ink. The two lions were gone. She turned her head and saw Zabuza, silhouetted by the moon. His gigantic sword was dripping with black ink.

Her insides churned as relief and terror swirled inside her like two dogs in a pit, fighting for dominance. Her legs buckled and she fell to her knees.

He shook the ink from his sword. "The bitch's neck is mine, little boy. Why don't you go back home and get your diaper changed?"

A flock of black crows erupted from the shadows. They swirled around Zabuza, pecking at him and thrashing him with their talons. His sword flailed around as he desperately tried to fend off his attackers. He managed to hit one of them and it vanished in a spray of ink.

One crow flew off, turned, and came at him. It passed through his chest, spraying her with blood. He staggered for a moment and looked to the sky...and then disintegrated.

She dabbed her face. _That's not blood. It's...water! A water clone?_

She heard Zabuza roar as he leapt from the branches above the masked man. He swung his sword as he landed. Her attacker was forced back into the moonlight, defending himself with a long, flat-tipped knife. She knew it was just a matter of time. Zabuza wouldn't give him enough room to draw in his book or make hand signs or fetch a shuriken from his pouch. All he could do was ward off Zabuza's heavy blows, which came with amazing speed. Finally, Zabuza's Decapitating Blade tore through the stranger's knife, and his neck.

She watched in horror as Zabuza picked up the head and approached her. He tore off the mask to reveal a face she had never seen before. He was right. Her attacker was just a kid, not much older than she was.

"A friend of yours?"

She shook her head. Inside her, the dog of 'relief' had succumbed, its throat torn out by the victorious dog of 'terror.' Her limbs went numb.

Zabuza looked at the severed head and blew it a kiss. "He's just a pup. Probably someone from the ANBU's Root Division. Annoying little pricks."

He chucked the head into the forest. "If they sent a kid like this, then his target was you. If it was me, they'd have sent every man they've got."

She bowed her head, knowing that these were her last moments. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

Which never came. When she opened her eyes again, Zabuza had wiped off his blade and was strapping it to his back.

"You aren't worth it. You're absolutely pathetic. Taking your head would be a fucking embarrassment."

"W-What do I do now?"

"Don't care. Doesn't matter anyway. If you go home, they'll kill you. If you go to any other country, their shinobi will kill you. And if you stay here, the villagers will want some payback for letting me kill Tazuna. So you're kind of screwed."

He sighed. "You were a pretty sweet fuck, girl. I would have been nice to pop your cherry. Heh. Both our cherries. But you have to be my servant. Do what I say, whenever I say it. If I ask you to cut your fucking cunt off and lick it 'til you come, then you'll do it. And beg me for more."

She said nothing. She simply stared into the darkness, wishing that the ground would swallow her up. Wishing that she had let the current take her far away.

For a full minute, he looked up at the moon as if studying its impassive face. Then he let out an annoyed moan.

"Look, if you show me that you have some _glimmer _of promise..." He looked down at the ground and spat. "Then I'll agree to train you. Make you strong. Strong enough to kill that boy, maybe."

"Never." Her voice was small and shaky, not defiant but defeated.

"Fine." He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "But at least you know the truth about this world. You won't die in ignorance."

He disappeared. And she was alone.

* * *

She stood on the bridge, shivering slightly as the first of the autumn winds blew across her bared skin. The metal deck below her feet was scarred and warped. There were no guards. There was nothing left to guard.

_We came here with Tazuna. It was still early and the morning mist hadn't quite cleared yet. When it did, we saw the bodies of the construction workers, hacked to pieces. Then we saw Zabuza appear next to Kakashi and Tazuna. And then Haku, next to me and Sasuke. And then...I was falling...and-_

_Wait. What really happened up here?_

She looked around her, trying to remember if this was the spot where she stood two mornings ago. _Okay, I was here. Sasuke was behind me. Haku was over there. Kakashi and Zabuza were too far away._

_I remember Sasuke saying, "He's mine." And then I said that we should fight together. And then...something hit my right side. I pinwheeled over the edge. But how could Haku move so fast? I had my eyes on him the whole time._

_Okay, let's try this. _She moved backwards, to the spot where Sasuke had stood.

_Sasuke's here. I'm there. Haku's still over there. And there I was, directly between him and Haku. And if Haku didn't move, then..._

_That's it! It was Sasuke, but he wasn't attacking me. He was trying to _protect _me. He must have seen Haku throw his needles or something and he pushed me out of the way. I was too stupid to realize that until now._

_But how did I end up in the water? God this is confusing._

She moved back to her original position. _Different tactic. I've just been shoved to the side. Enough force to knock me off my feet and send me over the edge. Step, step, step. That's...ten meters. Wow, that was some push._

_If so, I must have been going pretty fast. Too fast for him to save me. That's it! To protect me, he pushed me so hard that he couldn't- _

_No, that's not right. He went all the way up a tree and saved Naruto when he was fooling around during the tree-climbing exercise. He was fast enough. So why didn't-_

_New strategy. Okay. Fast-forward to the part where I'm over the edge of the bridge. The world is spinning around me. I see the water. The side of the bridge. The sky. Okay, go back. Between the bridge and the sky is...Sasuke's face. And he's..._

_Turning away._

Deep inside, the warm yellow fire in her belly, the one she had always been taught to call the Will of Fire, flickered and sputtered.

_He turned away from me. As I was falling. But why? He..._

She remembered Sasuke's words from that morning, when Kakashi told him that Naruto would be allowed to sleep and recover his chakra while they guarded the bridge. Sasuke got irritated and talked about how he needed to get stronger, how being saddled with a weak teammate was holding him back. And then he glanced at her. She smiled at him to let him know that he was 100% right about the little doofus.

_But he didn't return my smile. Was he really talking about...me?_

She remembered him talking about the slaughter of his clan and how he needed to get revenge. How he needed to become strong, stronger than everyone. How he needed to take on strong opponents and defeat them. How that was more important that anything else. How he wouldn't let anything get in his way. Or anyone.

_And that included me. And Kakashi. And Naruto._

In her mind, she imagined Sasuke being carried through the streets of Konoha, hailed as the heroic survivor of a battle that even Kakashi-sensei could not win. She imagined him pointing to a boy in a filthy orange jumpsuit, huddled in a corner, holding his arms over his yellow head to protect it from the rocks and bottles. "What are we going to do about him, Hokage-sama?"

She pictured the Third Hokage pulling his pipe from his mouth and spitting in Naruto's direction. "Him? The one who slept while his sensei was being cut into pieces? The pathetic clown? The illegitimate son of that red-headed slut from the Whirlpool Village? We have little use for a boy like that. Letting him live would be the worst punishment."

"And the girl? The one how betrayed us?"

The Third Hokage smiled. "Don't worry about her. I have people who take care of such things."

Inside her, the small yellow fire died, leaving an empty, cold place. She looked out at the reflection of the moon on the water with a hateful expression. _He turned away from me. As I fell. He betrayed me. Just to get his revenge._

Her brow furrowed. Her lips parted, revealing her clenched teeth.

_Zabuza was right. Sasuke fucked me. And Naruto. And Kakashi-sensei. And my village. And..._

Inside her belly, another fire sparked to life, red and intense. It raged inside her soul, burning away all that could not withstand its fury.

_And I will not rest until I've fucked _you_, Sasuke Uchiha._

* * *

She returned a little after midnight. The door was unlocked and a light was still on upstairs. When she climbed the staircase she saw him sitting on the edge of the still-made bed, studying a map. He was naked.

He waited until she stood before him. "The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"No. Only the lies do."

He looked up, expecting to see the frightened girl he left behind in forest, standing in her underwear, tears running her eyes. Instead, the creature that stood before him was naked and unashamed, her stance strong and erect. Her jaw was set and her eyes were fierce, like a predator's.

"My, my. Our little girl has-"

"On the bed. Face up."

He smiled slightly and moved back, laying his head on one of pillows. His penis rested on his stomach, the end of it nearly reaching his belly button. It stiffened as he stared at her crotch.

She put one foot on the bed, giving him a better view. When he was sufficiently erect, she knelt on the bed beside him and performed a slow, continuous lick up the underside of his shaft. It got even harder, pulsing with the same rhythm as his heart.

He moaned. "Not afraid of it anymore? Ready to be my servant?"

She met his gaze with a stony stare. "I'm ready for revenge. I'm ready to take back what Sasuke stole from me. And for that I need to get stronger. A lot stronger. In return, I'll become your servant. Your whore. Your murderer."

"We'll work on the murder part tomorrow. Tonight..."

He watched her spit on the end of his dick and rub the saliva over its dark head. He reached over to the night stand and picked up a plastic bottle. "If you're trying to lube me up, you'll need this."

When she had applied enough to cover him, she swung her leg over and sat on his belly, facing him. Her eyes half-closed when she felt his warm hand caress her breast.

Her eyes snapped open. She shoved his hand away. "I'm not here to make love with you. I'm going to fuck you, Zabuza. I'm going to take your virginity."

The cold cruelty of her voice put an evil grin on his face. "Do it, then. Pop my cherry."

She raised her hips and moved herself over him. He reached between her legs to position himself.

She grabbed his hand and pushed it away. "I've got it. I don't need your help."

As he watched her angle his dick to the entrance of her virgin cunt, he saw a pearlescent drop form at the tip. This never happened when he fucked men. Sometimes he had seen it happen to other men, in the moments before they fucked his ass or his mouth, especially with those who preferred the feeling of a boy's body.

She stared into his dark, merciless eyes. "Fuck you, Zabuza." With that, she pressed back, forcing her hips down in one quick motion, enveloping his flesh with hers.

She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes. _Too big. Too much. It burns. Like a hot poker in my-_

She moved up and then slammed her hips down again. _Like he said. This is a battle. My weapons against his. And I will not lose._

She thrust against him, over and over, using the same rhythm that he fucked her with two nights ago. With each thrust she barked her hatred at him. "Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you."

He lightly slapped her face, using just enough force to get her attention. "Show respect."

She glared at him. Her gaze dripped with bitter anger. "Fuck you, _Master_."

"That's better."

She went faster, pushing against his muscular chest, fighting the pain in her over-stretched cunt. Something inside her was growing stronger than her pain, something terrible that craved the friction inside her, that made her heart race, that begged her hips to pound him even harder.

She saw him close his eyes, and she knew that his sensations were just as intense. She felt him stiffen even more. He was very close.

He came. His hard abdominal muscles pulsed as his head jerked up with each ejaculation.

She continued, ignoring his clenched teeth and wincing eyes. The terrible thing inside her needed release.

"Stop. It's too much. Give it a rest." His hand reached up, preparing to knock her off if needed.

"Thought you...knew how to be...fucked...Master."

His eyes opened and he studied her face for a moment. His hand dropped.

Then it hit. Her very first orgasm. It struck her like a tsunami, sweeping away everything as the force of it made her convulse. Powerful aftershocks followed, coursing through her in waves. She lowered her head until her forehead was resting on his chest.

After a minute, she moved her hips forward, releasing his softening penis. She rolled to the side and laid her head on a pillow. Her cunt throbbed, almost as much as her ass did two days ago. She smiled and closed her eyes. _Victory._

As sleep began to overtake her, she heard him speak again.

"Outstanding. To fuck and to be fucked. Like a real shinobi."


	4. A Glimmer of Promise

**Chapter 4: A Glimmer of Promise**

* * *

In the morning, Zabuza awoke to find the other side of his bed empty. The maps from last night had been folded and put away, and clothes had been neatly laid out for him.

He sat up and sniffed. The bedsheets held the scents of Haku and the new girl. The girl's scent was strong and fresh, but Haku's was thin and fading. Tonight, when he laid down to sleep in yet another strange bed, the scent of his faithful servant would be gone entirely.

The smells of cooking arose from the floor below where a high, feminine voice was humming a tune, something dreamy and sweet. In an instant, he felt himself transported back to his parent's house in the Hidden Mist, back to when he was five and his mother was cooking in the next room and a warm sense of belonging enveloped him like one of his father's huge sweaters.

He rose and began to dress. This would be a busy day. He would board a smuggler's ship this afternoon and sail off to his next job. Before that, he needed to pack his bags and, hopefully, get a bit a training in.

The new girl called to him, telling him that his breakfast was ready.

He also had to decide whether to pay for one passage or two. He needed assassins, not maidservants, and he wasn't certain that all the training in the world could make one out of her. On the other hand, he could always sell her to one of the slavers along the southern coast of the Land of Lightning. He could get a fair price for her, more than enough to pay back the price of her ticket.

He smiled and looked over at Haku's pink kimono, the one with the little brown spirals. He always looked so cute in it, especially with his hair down. "No, Haku. I won't subject her to that. If she doesn't show any promise today, I'll just leave her here." He eyed his blade. "And to keep her from getting lonely, I'll leave her head next to Kakashi's."

* * *

Zabuza strapped on his sword and led Sakura into the woods. When she asked him where they were going, he simply said, "To train."

After they stopped, she watched him pull a small, flat box from his pocket. Inside were white squares of paper.

He offered it to her. "It's chakra paper. Take one. _Just _one. They're expensive."

She stared at the small sheets. "What do they do?

"They respond to your elemental chakra. If you're a water-type like me, it'll get wet. Wind, it tears; earth, it crumbles; fire, it burns; lightning, it wrinkles. Haku had a weird ice-type chakra, and his piece froze over and shattered."

She picked up a sheet, holding it between the tips of her fingernails. In the morning sunshine, it gleamed as bright as snow against the dark background of the forest. "Just put my chakra into it?"

He nodded. He watched as she placed the paper between her palms. When her palms opened, he stared at the sheet and then picked it up. It was completely stiff.

"What the hell?" He flung the sheet away. It stuck in the trunk of a tree like a white shuriken.

She went over and tapped the sheet with her finger. "What does that mean?"

"Don't know. Never seen that before. Let's try something else."

He came up behind her. "I'm going to teach you a water-style jutsu. It's not very powerful but it's easy to learn. If you can master this jutsu quickly, then you shouldn't have trouble learning more useful techniques."

She looked at the paper square impaled in the tree. "What if I can't pick it up easily?"

His eyes trailed down the side of her face to her lips, and then along her jaw to the back of her neck. Her hair was tied back, exposing the line between her third and fourth vertebrae. He ran his thumb along the strap holding his blade. "Well, If you can't, then we'll just have to make other plans."

She felt the intensity of his gaze and glanced behind her. "What are the seals?"

"Serpent, ox, tiger. Immediately after forming the tiger seal, point your palms at the target and send your chakra out through them. Water will shoot out and strike your enemy. This time, your enemy will be the oak tree right in front of you."

She stretched her fingers and stared at the rugged bark. She leaned forward. "Ready!"

He rolled his eyes. "Okay. Serpent."

"Serpent!"

"Ox."

"Ox!"

"Do you really need to call out every goddamned move you make? You're just as bad as that little punk in the orange jumpsuit." He leaned forward and spoke in her ear. "This isn't a fucking comic book. Just shut the hell up and do what I tell you. Tiger seal! And shoot!"

She formed the seal and pointed her palms at the tree. Nothing happened.

He huffed. "Again. Serpent!"

"Serpent! I mean, yes... Master. No wait, I-"

"Quiet! Ox. Now tiger. And shoot!"

"It's... It's not-"

"Again. Serpent. Ox. Tiger. Shoot!"

"Nothing's coming out. What do I-"

"Stop!"

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Look. You're a feisty kid and all that. Some people just aren't cut out for-"

She reached up and shoved his hand away. "I'm not giving up. One more chance."

He sighed. He reached back and grabbed the handle of his sword. As he watched her stare at the tree, he silently removed the blade from its strap.

"Okay, girl. One more chance."

She performed the rat seal and gathered her chakra. She closed her eyes.

He gave a brief moan. "That's not going to help."

She continued to stand, holding the seal while she breathed deeply.

His thumb rubbed the cloth that wrapped the handle of his blade. "Don't be all day with this, girl. I've got things to take care of."

She opened her eyes. With loud yell, she performed the seals and then slammed her palms into the trunk of the tree. Nothing happened.

He tightened his grip on the handle. "Sorry, new girl. It's been fun and all that, but now I've got to-"

"I did it."

His brow furrowed. "Did what?"

"I did it!" She moved her hands, revealing damp handprints. "I made water come out. It worked."

She leaned in to examine the wet spots. "You're going to accept me, right? You said if I showed a glimmer of promise, then-"

"_Just _a glimmer. That's all it is. If you were a water-type, it should have sprayed out on the first try." He glanced at the white paper square. "But since you're a who-the-fuck-knows type..." He sighed and reached back to attach the sword to its strap. "I guess I'll have to train you a little more before I decide."

She looked back and saw the sword in his hand. "Are you going to teach me how to use that sword?"

He paused. "Let's get one thing straight. I will _never _teach you how to use this sword. I won't even let you near it. The only way to get one of Seven Swords of the Hidden Mist is to kill the man who's already got it. The last guy who owned this blade made me his apprentice and taught me all of its secrets. Dumb move on his part. I won't make the same mistake."

She turned towards him. "So what's next? More of this? How about something like the Water Dragon Jutsu? What are the seals?"

"Ninjutsu's more than just wiggling your fingers around." He mashed his fingers together, mocking her. "It's about manipulating the energy _inside _your body."

"I know that. You combine the spiritual and physical components of your chakra to form-"

"You don't know! You're still thinking about that shit they teach you in the academy. All they do is show you the seals and they never explain how to actually _mold _chakra." He pointed to his belly. "In here, where it counts."

She put her hands on her hips. "So how is that any different from the way _you _were trying to teach me?"

He turned his head away. "You don't understand anything."

"So make me understand."

He groaned and then positioned himself behind her. "Okay. You have to _feel _the energy. Here." He reached around and parted the bottom of Haku's yukata. His hand came up between her legs until the tip of his middle finger found the spot between her anus and the bottom of her vagina. He held it there and pressed in slightly. His thumb rested on the side of her labia, dangerously close to her clitoris.

"Serpent."

She formed the serpent seal.

He put his head close to hers and spoke softly. His hot breath caressed her ear and the side of her neck, just as his thumb began to caress her cunt. Her knees started to feel a little weak. "Imagine a cool, blue energy coming out of the ground and running up your legs. You don't have to force it. Picture your body drawing it up, like a sponge. Can you feel it?"

"Yes. Kind of."

"Gather up that energy and store it between your legs at the spot where my finger is touching you." His middle finger pressed in tighter. That made his thumb shift slightly. She felt the warm skin of his palm against her clit.

"Can you feel it yet?"

"A little."

She tried to relax and focus on her chakra, but the yearnings of her body interfered with her concentration. His hand shifted again and she sucked in her breath. Her back arched slightly. It took an effort of will to keep her knees from buckling.

"Relax, girl. I can feel how tense you are." He pressed his body against her back. "You need to release that tension."

She felt the heel of his palm begin to knead her clit with small downward strokes. Her breathing became shorter and sharper. Despite the immense distraction, she kept holding the seal.

A cool breeze whipped the bottom of her yukata. Chills ran up her legs, and even her hips felt icy cold.

He moaned. "I can't believe how wet you are. You're practically dripping. Excellent. Keep it up."

Her eyes half-closed as she tilted her head back. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep herself from going over the edge.

She felt wetness running down her legs, first in dribbles, then in streams. Soon, she could hear liquid dripping from the hem of her soaked yukata onto the leaves below.

"Is this...supposed to happen?"

He grinned. "Yes. The water's being drawn from the air by all that chakra, all focused into this one tiny spot. In battle, you'd only keep it there for a fraction of a second."

The rubbing of his palm slowed. "Next step. Slowly undo the seal and keep holding all that chakra down there."

She gradually separated her fingers. There was a slight break in the torrent of water but otherwise she kept her chakra focused.

"Outstanding. Next is the ox seal. When you form it, start draining the chakra from that spot and make it go in a circle around your heart" She felt him reach around with his left hand and place it between her breasts. "Very important. Make sure you rotate the chakra _around _the heart." His hand moved in a circle on her chest; as he did, his palms and forearms rubbed against her stiffening nipples. "Never pass it _through _the heart. That's the kind of mistake you won't live to regret."

When the seal was complete, she immediately felt pressure in her chest. She willed the chakra to rotate. Dark wet stains began to form on the fabric of her blue yukata as the chakra circled faster and faster. His right hand continued to grind on her privates while his left kept making her nipples scream in delicious agony.

"Last step," he said. "Form the tiger seal. The chakra will pass from your chest to the palms of your hands. Just before it gets there, break the seal, put your palms against the tree, and shoot it out. We should see a little more than just wet handprints this time."

It happened in a flash. Just as she felt herself spilling into orgasm, she formed the tiger seal, felt the rush of her chakra, and slammed her palms on the bark. She blacked out for a moment. The next thing she knew, Zabuza was pulling her body back. She heard loud cracking, followed by a thundering crash. He helped her to get back on her feet.

All that remained of the tree was a blasted stump with the fallen trunk lying beside it. The stump and the lower part of the tree were dripping wet. They both stared at the scattered mess of wet splinters and jagged shards.

Still shaky, she stepped forward. She yanked the stiff white card from the side of the trunk, and shook the water off. "Was _that _supposed to happen?"

He looked at her, and then at the tree, and then back at her. "Who the hell are you? What kind of game are you playing?"

She crossed her arms. "I'm not here to play games. We're here to train, remember?"

He stared at her face, trying to see if she was kidding him. That technique was only used for training. He never imagined that anyone could make it strong enough to be used as an attack. Or that a little girl like her could control her chakra so powerfully.

Finding Haku was like finding a diamond in the gutter. Without a doubt, it was the luckiest day of his life. At least until today.

He turned toward the tree house. "We'll finish training later. Right now, we've got to pack up and get ready to leave. There's a mission, up in the Land of Lightning, waiting for us." He glanced back at her. "_Both_ of us."

* * *

They boarded the smuggler's ship an hour before sunset. Once their packs were stowed, they came up to the deck to watch the crew haul up the lines and raise the sails. The men nervously rushed to finish their tasks. When the last line could not be freed from it's mooring, the captain ordered his men to hack through it with a fire axe.

Sakura rubbed her arms and hunched her shoulders. All she had on was Haku's thin, pink, sleeveless kimono and the cool northern winds blew right through it.

Zabuza moaned teasingly. "Cold?" He was staring at her chest where the stiff points of her nipples strained against the fabric.

She crossed her arms, covering herself. "I'm fine. I'll put on Haku's haori when we go below."

As the ship began to sail away, dozens of villagers, armed with harpoons and pickaxes, ran onto the dock. They shouted and shook their fists at them. One even fired a crossbow at them, but the bolt plunged into the water, short of its target.

Zabuza grunted. "Guess they're still kind of sore about the bridgebuilder."

Sakura squinted. A masked man appeared in the shadows behind the mob. His combat vest was the type worn by elite ninjas of the Hidden Mist.

She dropped her arms and stood erect. "A friend of yours?"

He stared at him for a long moment. "No. Not anymore."

He put his hand on her shoulder. It's warmth surprised her. "Relax. He's just a scout. They won't attack me with anything less than three full platoons. It takes time to get that many hunters together."

He turned to face the north wind. "It's always going to be like this, you know. Always running, always hiding, always trying to keep a step ahead of the hunter-nins." He glanced at her. "And now the ANBU of the Hidden Leaf."

He noticed that she was looking to the west, watching the sun set behind the tall cliffs. "You can never go back there, girl. Not unless you can get as strong as me, at least."

"Until. _Until _I become as strong as you."

He chuckled with a sinister expression. After a moment, his face softened. He stared at the dark water with a far-away look in his eyes. "Thinking about your parents?"

Her eyes narrowed as her hands balled into fists. "No. About someone else. What's our mission?"

"Killing a priest. He was a Cloud jounin before he got religion. Nobody in the Land of Lightning will take the job. Their loss. Our gain."

"Does he deserve it?" Her question, which came out of nowhere, surprised and embarrassed her. She had never heard anyone in her village - not her parents, her teachers, or her friends - ask this. Or seem to care what the answer might be.

"Did old man Tazuna deserve it? Depends on who you ask. Gato said 'yes.' Those guys on the dock say 'no.' Gato was the one who offered me cash, and that's all I needed to know about it."

They watched the last warm rays of sunlight disappear behind the cliffs. Soon, the night would envelop them in its dark embrace.

"And you, girl. When your village ordered your death, did you deserve that?"

She spent a long time staring at the darkening cliffs. Her eyes were hard and her jaw was set. Another cold wind chilled her. She moved a step closer to him, seeking his warmth.

"No, Master."


	5. Lusting for Revenge

**Chapter 5: Lusting for Revenge**

* * *

Three years later, in the mountains of the Land of Iron, a young samurai in a suit of white armor patrolled the wooden deck that the surrounded his lord's mansion. He walked carefully, trying not to wake any of the guests with the sound of his heavy boots. He heard a loud crack on the headset of his helmet's radio and he winced. That usually happened when someone set their helmet down too hard or accidentally hit their head. He was about to call it in when he saw the figure of a young woman appear around the next corner.

He couldn't help but to stare. She was exquisitely beautiful. Her body was slender, and her posture was strong and erect. Her cherry-blossom pink hair was arranged in the style of a young women of nobility, one who's marriage had not yet been arranged. She must have been, he thought, a daughter or cousin of one of his lord's many children.

In the dim light of the hanging lanterns, he watched her as she looked out at the snow. His eyes traced the profile of her face from her soft green eyes to the intoxicating pout of her lips and then to the delicious invitation of her long, supple neck. The kimono that hugged the gentle curves of her body was as white as the snow, and was printed with an irregular pattern of dark and light grey cherry blossoms, which strangely resembled the pattern on a camouflage uniform.

She wore no coat, but that was understandable. She had probably just arrived with today's guests from the south and wasn't aware that the nights here would be so cold, even with the start of Spring a week earlier. When he saw her knees twitch together, he understood her situation.

He stepped forward. "Ojou-sama?"

She turned, surprised by his voice. Fear flashed in her wide eyes as she met his gaze. That softened as she clasped her hands in front of her chest. She looked away slightly and bit her lip. When she spoke her words were hesitant and unsure, though the voice that delivered them was clear and strong.

"Uhm, can you tell me where the, uh..."

He was grateful that his mask covered his embarrassed smile and the blush on his cheeks. He pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

"It's, uh, three doors that way, m'lady. No, wait. For the ladies' room, it's four doors. Sorry."

In the dim light of the lantern, he saw her begin to blush as well. "Arigato," she said.

As she passed him, he held his hand up. "Ojou-sama? You shouldn't be out here alone. It's dangerous. We've heard that a shinobi assassin is coming here. You know, for the book."

She smiled warmly. "Thank you for your concern. But it's not necessary."

He tilted his head.

She looked directly at him, as though her entrancing green eyes could see his face through the mask. Her smile faded. She placed her hand on his breastplate.

"That's because _I'm_ the assassin," she said.

He tilted his head further, wondering if he should laugh now or if the real punchline of her joke was yet to come.

He didn't have long to wait. She shot her hand up, striking the bottom edge of his facemask. The blow startled him but caused no pain.

The soft hum of static in the headset was gone. _She hit...the radio?_

Continuing her motion, she grabbed the shattered edge of his faceplate, stepped through with her right leg until her hip was against his, and pulled him forward. With little effort, his body sailed forward, flipping as it fell. Silently, he slammed into the snow drifts below, landing on his back.

His hand grabbed the hilt of his chakra sword. As he started to draw, her foot landed on his wrist, driving all of her weight into his arm and his belly. It knocked the air from his lungs and the sword from his hand.

A kunai, silhouetted by the moon, appeared in her hand. As it struck, the last thing he saw were her eyes, their sweet warmth replaced by a savage, inhuman fury.

* * *

At the center of the mansion, four samurai stood guard around the cabinet where the book was kept. Each man continually watched his 90° sector, ensuring that no one, not even one of the dishonorable shinobi, could sneak in.

All four winced when they heard yet another crack on their radio headsets. The sergeant, who faced the North wall, huffed and switched his microphone to the local network.

"Who keeps knocking their goddamned helmet? Those things cost a lot of money."

The senior sergeant, facing the East wall, switched his microphone over as well. "Probably the fucking new guy out on the deck. I hope we didn't make a mistake by bringing him here."

The sub-commander, who faced the West wall, joined in. "And I remember when both of you were the fucking new-boots in the platoon. You two were just as hopeless, so cut him a little slack."

The platoon commander, who guarded the door on the South wall, left his microphone switched to the company-wide radio net. "Cut the chatter, people, and keep watching your sectors. I'm not cutting slack for anybody, not until that fucking ninja's head is mine."

Suddenly all four heard a noise on the other side of the North wall. Then they heard another crack in their headsets. The commander turned around and switched on his thermal imaging camera. Through the rice-paper wall, he could make out the dim glow from the heat of the guard's body, still standing in the hallway. He slowly turned, scanning for other warm bodies in the surrounding rooms. When he saw nothing unexpected, he switched back to his night-vision camera and resumed his watch on the door.

After a minute, the sub-commander saw something float by his head. He reached out and grabbed it with his armored fist. It was a flower petal. Switching to his visible-light camera, he saw that it was a tiny pink cherry blossom. He zoomed in on it. "Hey, guys. Cherry blossom season's not for another month up here. Where did...?"

He zoomed out and looked to his left and right, and then turned to look behind him. No one else was in the room. Slowly, he looked up at the roof. There, hanging from the rafters, was the figure of a young woman in a white kimono. In her hand was a naked chakra blade.

He reached for his weapon but it was too late. The girl pushed off with her feet and drove the blade into his chest through the space exposed by his lifted chin. The blade wasn't long enough to reach his heart so she sent a burst of chakra through it. He collapsed, his insides torn asunder.

When her legs came down, she slammed her heels into the sergeant's back, sending him tumbling forward through the rice-paper wall. She landed on her feet as the senior sergeant faced her and reached for his blades.

She turned and dove toward him. She jammed her palms into gap that formed below his breast plate as he finished drawing his blades. The jets of water that shot from her palms swirled around inside his armor, shredding his internal organs.

The commander turned and whipped out his blade. He sent a wave of chakra into it and formed a chakra sword, one long enough to cut through the the girl's body. He slashed and then roared with pleasure as he saw the two halves of her body fall.

He looked down at her and shook his head. Suddenly, the girl's body disappeared and was replaced by the severed corpse of his senior sergeant. He groaned.

"The Substitution Jutsu?" he said. "Then where's the real one?" He whirled about and saw the girl, finishing a set of handsigns.

He tried to swing his blade up but his arms couldn't move. He had been surrounded by water, as heavy and dense as freshly-poured concrete. He tried to shout but his voice was muffled by the thick liquid.

In the hallway beyond the North wall, the sergeant lifted his head from the floorboards. His faceplate had cracked from the impact and the soft static from his radio headset had gone silent. Quietly, he stood and turned. When he saw the commander trapped by the Hidden Mist's infamous Water Prison technique, he leaned over to the guard that had been posted in the hallway.

"You take the left side and I'll take the right. Once we force her to release her jutsu, we'll-"

He stopped talking when he realized that the guard was no longer alive. A kunai had been thrust into his neck, pinning his body to the support beam behind him.

The sergeant drew his blade and formed a battle axe with his chakra. "You'll need a better trick to get out of this one, shinobi. The only way you can dodge my attack is to let go of the commander. Then you'll have both of us to deal with. Or, you can just stand still and it'll be over before you can even feel it. What's your choice?"

He watched her raise her free hand and extend her index and middle fingers. He had seen this move before. The dishonorable shinobi often used explosives to create distractions and escape like cowards, and that was the handsign which detonated them. His eyes flashed around, scanning the walls for explosive tags. When he failed to spot any, he looked back at the girl and watched her give him a cruel smile.

That's when he realized where the tags were. Wrapped around the handle of her kunai, the one sticking out of the lifeless guard's neck.

The explosion knocked the sergeant to the floor. Blood oozed from the ruins of his quivering face.

The girl turned and stared at the thick, hardbound book, set on a red velvet cloth on top of the cabinet. Then she looked down at the commander and watched him struggle to hold his breath. "You shouldn't have looked away a minute ago," she said to him. "That's what you get for not obeying your own orders. Where's the book?"

He pointed to the top of the cabinet.

"Where's the _real _book?" She pointed to the cabinet door. "Inside here?"

He glared at her.

With her free hand, she rummaged through the cabinet. In the bottom drawer, she found a blue spiral-bound notebook with loose pages jutting from the sides.

She held it in front of him. "Is _this _it?"

With his last strength, he raised his middle finger to her.

She smiled. "Thought so. Now you'll pay the price for your incompetence."

He struggled for a few seconds as his last stale breath escaped from his mouth and the water entered his lungs. Then his frightened eyes closed and his frenzied motions became still.

Afterwards, she walked through the halls of the mansion, heading for the front door. Next to her, a door slid open and an old man's head appeared. He summoned her to him. His voice trembled. "What's going on? I heard explosions, and-"

"It was a ninja, Lord Takamatsu. There was a bit of trouble but it's over now. He tried to get the book." She held it up for him to see.

His eyebrows raised. "Is he gone?"

"Yes, my lord. He's dead. I'll take this to the captain of the guard for safekeeping."

He smiled. "Thank you, young lady. If that fell into the wrong hands, it would be the end of us."

She smiled and closed his door. "Sleep, my lord. I'll see to it that everything's taken care of."

At the end of the hall, she opened the wooden door and stepped outside. Thirty meters away, on the frozen lake between her and the safety of the forest, stood three figures in white armor. The one in the middle had a helmet with the distinctive horns of a samurai captain.

He took a step towards her. "Ninja. What is your village? Who are you working for?"

She closed the door behind her and tucked the book into the front of her kimono. The rectangular bulge covered her mid-section,

"That won't save you," he said. "I only need to keep the book from leaving here. Whether I destroy it along with you is unimportant."

She stepped toward him, her hands at the ready.

He switched his helmet display to the thermal imaging camera. Her warm body blazed in swirls of red and orange against the dull gray background of snow and the brighter gray of the cold walls behind her. "Very well. You two, cover me."

The other two samurai turned on their thermal cameras and faced away, watching the area behind his back and to either side. He drew both of his chakra blades. "I know how you bastards operate. Distract me with a frontal assault while your friends attack from the rear. Like a pack of mongrels."

Her eyes opened wider when he filled the blades with his chakra. Though she couldn't see it, she could feel the numinous power that emanated from them. In her mind's eye she saw his chakra as glowing yellow energy that enveloped the metal blades. He drew back one of his swords and prepared to blast her with a wave of his chakra.

She moved to the right, putting her body between him and Lord Takamtsu's room.

He lowered his arms. "Very clever, little girl. What's your next move?"

She gave him an evil grin. Then she began to loosen the obi that tied her kimono shut.

The captain watched the fabric slip from her shoulders and pile around her feet. He saw that she was wearing nothing underneath and his heart began to race. As she turned and bent to place the book on top of her discarded outfit, he felt shame when his eyes traced the cleft of her buttocks to the place where her legs joined. That spot, warmer than the rest of her body, blazed yellow in his helmet display.

He cleared his throat and forced himself to concentrate on her face. "If you're trying to appeal for mercy, girl, then forget it. I have taken the heads of many jounin, some even younger than you. Surrender yourself, and I'll make sure your death is-"

His words froze as he watched her left hand begin to caress her breast. He thought his breathing would stop altogether when he watched her right hand tease the bright yellow spot between her legs. As she did, the spot heated further and began to glow green and then blue.

He quickly glanced left and right to make sure that his lieutenants were still watching the treeline. "It won't work," he said. "You cannot distract us with such a..." He swallowed. "...a display such as that."

When she gave a loud moan, he felt a twinge of fear. He knew the sounds that women made when their pleasure began to reach its peak, but her cries were mixed with something else. There was something feral in her voice, something less-than-human.

What disturbed him even more was her chakra. When she emerged from the house, her energy felt no different than that of his daughters'. As she shamelessly pleasured herself, her chakra grew stronger and darker. When its foul energy became almost unbearable, he watched her eyes snap open.

"W-Why are you doing this?" he said.

She stared directly at him, as though she could see his face through the helmet. Her mouth curled into an evil grin, "Because I lust for my revenge."

Her body exploded forward, rocketing toward him at superhuman speed. When he shot two blasts of chakra at her body, she barely slowed as she lept over the first and ducked under the second.

Before he could see it, he felt her fist slam into his solar plexus, sending him flying backwards. When he hit the ground, he curled into a ball, rolled backwards, and came up on his feet, swords at the ready.

His helmet display flickered, and when it came back up, he saw her fist, blue-green from the blazing heat of her body, ram through the armored midsection of one of his lieutenants. He was shocked when he saw the man's bright yellow blood streaming down the muddy grey of his armor. The other man turned to attack but it was too late. She slammed the edge of her hand into the side of his neck. For the briefest of moments, he thought that she delivered a simple blow. His heart sank when he saw an empty space form between the man's shoulders and his helmet.

He didn't care about being elegant. He simply shoved the two chakra blades in her direction and unleashed a stream of his chakra from his blades in the widest pattern he could manage. If that wasn't enough to kill her, he thought, it should slow her down long enough for the reinforcements to arrive.

His heart froze when he saw her standing between his arms, where his chakra blasts had no effect. Before he could do anything to stop her, he felt her hands grip his throat and force him to the ground, which sent his blades flying.

"You know the best part?" she said as she squeezed his neck. "What really gets me off?" Her mouth grinned with sadistic glee. "It's when I pretend you're my boyfriend." Her eyes half-closed with pleasure as she squeezed even tighter. "Sasuke Uchiha."

He had heard stories that when people are beheaded, there are times when the severed head lives on for a few moments. He had never believed them until now, when he felt his own head roll backwards and the hot drumming of his pounding pulse was replaced by the silent scream of cold snow against the torn flesh of his neck. As his eyes closed for the last time, he listened to the girl, moaning like a demon as she was lost to the throes of her own pleasure.

After her orgasm had subsided, Sakura laid in the snow, oblivious to the cold. All she could feel was the throbbing of her body. She smiled and closed her eyes. The only thing that would be more satisfying than the fantasy of Sasuke's death would be to do it for real.

Her eudaemonia was interrupted when she heard the tramping of many heavy boots in the snow. She sprang to her feet and walked backwards, stopping when she was certain that she was no longer standing on the frozen surface of the lake.

A moment later, twenty men in white armor ran around the corner of the mansion, their blades drawn. The leader pointed his sword at her. "You! Ninja! Put your hands up."

She raised her hands above her head. She smiled as she watched them slow down, obviously surprised that not only was their opponent a naked girl, holding her blood-stained hands up as she stood barefoot in the snow, but that such a girl would surrender without a fight.

Thirty meters away, they stopped. The leader stepped toward her and formed a sword with chakra blade. "Don't move," he said. "If you make even a single handsign, I'll cut you in half."

She smiled wider. "Okay. Come and take me." She tilted her head. "If you can."

The leader took another step forward, keeping his sword ready to strike. Her confidence was unnerving.

Just as he was about to step again, he felt something rumble beneath his feet. He stared down at the meter-thick sheet of ice.

Suddenly, an enormous dragon, made entirely of water, erupted though the ice. Several of the men slipped into the icy water. Paralyzed by the shock of hypothermia, they sank to their deaths.

The remaining men blasted the creature with their chakra. It was no use. The water simply absorbed their blows. The dragon turned about, slashing men's torsos with its claws and crushing them with its fists.

When only the leader remained, he ran away from the monster as fast as he could. Then he turned as looked for the girl, realizing that killing her would break her jutsu. He squealed with glee when he saw that she was right in front of him.

"Die!" he said as he slashed her with his blade. He chuckled to himself as the girl's torso split in two, fell apart and...disappeared.

He stared at the wet patches of snow. "A water clone? So where's-"

He felt something yank hard at the back of his armor. He fell on his butt and slid backwards on the ice. As he did, he saw the naked girl again. Somehow she had managed to sneak behind him. He shook his head, lifted his blade, and let his chakra flow into it. _Stupid girl. Now you'll wish you'd killed me when you had the chance._

Then he realized what he was sliding toward. He looked up, and the last thing he saw was the body of the dragon crashing down on him.

She watched the cracked, bloodied chunks of ice settle. Then all was silent again.

She turned her head toward the treeline. "I was expecting you a little sooner." she said.

Zabuza emerged from the darkness. "You were supposed to distract the other two," he said. Then he grinned. "Besides, you know how much I enjoy watching you work."

He picked up her discarded gear. He handed her the kimono and sandals and kept the book. "How did you do that?"

As she dressed, she turned away from him. "Do what?"

"The Water Dragon Jutsu. I never taught you that one."

"Yes, you did. I remember, even if you don't."

He tilted his head. "That needs more than forty seals. You didn't form a single one of them."

She kept her back to him. "Well, I must have, obviously. The dragon came out, right?"

He stared at her back for a moment and then he walked over to captain's severed head. He grabbed the helmet by one of its horns and shoved it into a sack.

She finished tieing her obi. "You're taking the helmet, too?"

He held up the awkward-looking sack. "Proves it's him, doesn't it?"

* * *

They ran through the forest, stopping every now and then to listen for the sounds of pursuers. No one was following them. As they approached the location that their client had given them, they slowed down and moved cautiously, listening to the sounds of the forest as they crept ahead.

Their customer's carriage was parked by the the side of the road. As they approached, a voice inside called out to them. "You needn't worry. We are alone. After all, a samurai's word is his life."

The carriage door opened to reveal a middle-aged man in a tailored silk kimono. The gilded handles of his swords rubbed against his paunchy belly as he stepped out to face the two ninjas.

Zabuza looked over his shoulder. When he was satisfied that no one else was there, he handed the book to the man.

Sakura glanced at the book. "What's in that thing?"

The man smiled at her. "You didn't look? A shinobi with a sense of honor? Imagine such a thing." He waved the book in front of him. "Nothing as controversial as my father believes. The shame of losing it to a couple of ninjas, however, will force him to cut his own belly." He grinned. "Leaving me to bear the heavy burden of his responsibilities."

Zabuza huffed. "I thought you had an older brother. Doesn't he get a turn?"

The man's eyebrows raised. "You mean Ichiro? My father's favorite? The great hero of our family?" He turned toward the dark forest, his face etched with a furious scowl. "The chosen one? In whose shadow I have languished throughout my entire life?" Then he looked at Zabuza again. "You _did _kill him, right? The captain of the guard? Please tell me you completed _that _part of your assignment."

Zabuza nodded at Sakura. "She did." He flashed the man an evil grin. "With her bare hands. Made it look easy."

The man shot her a disgusted glance. "So. That's her. The one they talk about." He looked her in the eyes. "Zabuza's whore. So tell me, girl, do you always-"

A moment later he found himself on his knees, his forehead being forced down until it nearly touched the ground. "Apologize," he heard the girl say as she tightened her grip on his neck. "Apologize to my master. For suggesting that he would defile his flawless body with a common whore."

The man struggled but it was hopeless. Her grip was like an iron vise. When he realized that he couldn't break free, he said, "I'm-I'm sorry."

He felt her grip loosen. When he looked up and saw the Sakura standing with her back to him, he suppressed a smile. In a flash he sprang to his feet, drew his katana and, in the same motion, cut the girl's body in half.

At least, that's what he imagined he was doing. When he completed his stroke, he was surprised to find that Sakura had disappeared. And so did his sword. As he opened his hand to examine his empty palm, he was surprised to feel the keen edge of a blade against his throat. He looked over to see the gilded handle of his own sword, held by the girl's hand. Somehow, in an instant, she had managed to appear behind him.

"Shall I, Master?" she said.

Zabuza held up his hand. "Not this time. Let's just get it over with." He reached into his sack and pulled out the blood-stained helmet. He reached underneath and unfastened the chinstrap, letting the severed head fall to the ground.

The man stared at its lifeless expression for a minute. Then he kicked it into the woods. In a low voice, he said, "It's true, isn't it? That revenge is sweet?"

The man turned and set the book down on the seat of the carriage. Then he picked up a sack of coins and tossed it to the ground at Zabuza's feet. "You needn't count it," he said. "It's all there."

Sakura picked up the heavy sack, brushed off the dirt, and bowed slightly as she handed it to her master. Then she turned to look at the man. In her eyes was an odd expression, bloodlust and aggression mixed with a strange longing, the way a starving, rabid dog would stare at a helpless kitten. "Yes," she said to him. "Terribly sweet."

* * *

They returned to their hideout. The man had been kind enough to arrange a comfortable cottage a few kilometers south of the mansion. They accepted his offer, but instead occupied an abandoned cabin in the woods nearby.

Inside the cabin, Zabuza wrapped his arm around Sakura's waist. His hand snaked down, feeling for the place where the white silk parted. When he found it, he moaned with anticipation as he slowly reached inside.

She leaned back toward him. "Be careful where you stick your fingers, Master. Some things in there aren't as harmless as they seem."

His arm jumped and he yanked his hand out. He growled as he looked at the bleeding cut on his middle finger.

She scowled and clicked her tongue. She reached into her kimono and pulled out one of the small, paper-thin blades hanging inside. There was a line of blood along the edge. "I told you. Let me take this off first."

After neatly hanging up her outfit, she stood naked before him. He laid across the bed. His eyes traced paths up and down her body, pausing on the bare cleft of her vulva and on the stiffening tips of her soft, round breasts.

He smiled slightly. "I remember when you looked like boy from the waist up. Amazing what a couple of years will do."

"Three years," she said. She put her foot on the bed, giving him a good look at her needy clit as it peeked out from under it's hood, yearning for attention. "And I'm surprised that you can even _think _about a boy's body right now."

She reached over, grabbed the broom, and passed it between her legs. She put her foot down and stood with the broomhandle trapped between her thighs. Then she parted her legs slightly and raised it until the hard wood was up against her.

The rounded end of handle stuck out at him. "I could remind you. Come on. Turn around and bend over. I'll give you a trip down Memory Lane."

He stared at it, bemused. Then he reached out and laid the stiff wood across his palm. He began stroking it, tenderly but with a definite firmness.

The motions of the handle indirectly massaged her clit with the same rhythm. Her breaths came shorter and faster as her nipples firmed into hard points.

She expected him to start laughing or make some revolting comment or, worst of all, grab the handle and painfully yank it away. Instead, he slid off the bed and kneeled before her. "You were a very good boy tonight, Sakura. Let me _entertain _you."

She watched him lean his head forward and softly kiss the end of the handle. Then he took it in his mouth. She was surprised by how far down the pole his lips went, by how it seemed to enter his mouth a little further with each stroke. As she felt the motion of the handle bring her ever closer to orgasm, she was also surprised by how strongly she wanted the wood to become real flesh: to feel his lips against her shaft, to thrust it into his mouth, to experience the pleasure of watching his eyes open wide when she grabbed his head and pulled him in and forcefully ejaculated into him.

Her hand played with the hair on the back of his head. She touched him gently, fighting her desire to violently fuck his face. As she felt herself being brought to the edge of orgasm, this feeling became overwhelming. She wanted, so very badly, to seize his head with her powerful hands and force it inside him, to pound it against the back of his throat, harder and harder, again and again, until she rammed it through the back of his disgusting head. As she felt her body spill over the edge, this image - her penis sticking out through the hole in his skull, ejaculating white as his torn arteries ejaculated red, his filthy body spasming from the shock and pain - dominated her fantasy, intensifying her pleasure.

Before she opened her eyes again, she felt him lift her up. The broom clattered to the floor as her tossed her onto the soft bed.

She rubbed the sore patches on the insides of her thighs as she watch him take off his shirt. Her eyes trailed down to look at the wet spot on his pants that was forming at the tip of his bulge; he, in turn, stared at the glistening between the lips of her wide-spread cunt.

The skirmish was over. Now the real battle would begin.

He crawled onto the bed, his head between her legs. He moved forward and put his mouth on her flesh. He licked her in long, broad strokes, from the entrance of her moist cunt to the tip of her greedy clit. At the end of each stroke, he slowed, making sure her flesh received the hot, wet friction it so desperately craved.

Her second orgasm arrived shortly after. She relaxed, letting her body surrender to the convulsions of her climax. She permitted herself to lose this battle, saving her strength for the final showdown.

Zabuza changed his tactics. With his left hand, he reached up and cupped her breast; with his right, he inserted his index and middle fingers into her. His warm left hand caressed her, trying to lull her into a false sense of security, but she was not so easily fooled. Soon, he found his way to her right nipple, and she moaned as she felt him slowly teasing her with slow, firm, upward strokes of his fingers. It was a weak spot in her armor, one he regularly exploited.

Another was the way he curled his fingers inside her, as if beckoning her into the dark, twisted abyss of his soul. Over the last three years, he had carefully mapped out all of the vulnerable spots within her. He made sure to hit his targets precisely, matching his timing of his fingers to the pounding of her heart, the labored pants of her breath, and the involuntary jerks of her pelvis as she came yet again.

She moaned louder when his wicked tongue entered the fray. It was not the most powerful of his weapons but it was the most cruel. He knew exactly how to wear down her defenses. Rarely did he do the same thing twice. He moved in circles around her clit, quickly to the right, then slowly to the left. He pressed in, coming up one side of her inner lips and down the other. He gave long licks up the center punctuated by little flicks left and right. She shivered when he blew on her overheated flesh to cool it, then she bucked her hips when he applied his hot mouth to heat it back up. He stimulated her continually, never letting up, never allowing her tortured body to settle..

She had lost count of her orgasms when he brought out his no-so-secret weapon. He began tugging on her nipples: long, hard pulls followed short, intense yanks. Each time, it shot lightning through her, each bolt targeting her agonized clit.

There was a time when this would have forced her surrender. Now, she was older and much stronger. She gritted her teeth as she suffered yet another onslaught of terrible pleasure. Her body shook each time she came, and each time the shaking grew worse, lasting longer and longer. It was only a matter of time. Soon the period of her convulsions would be longer than the spacing between her orgasms. _That's when my defenses are gone. That's when he'll give me his coup-de-grace. When he thinks he'll defeat me._

_As if._

Eventually, despite all her resistance, that time arrived. Her knees clenched together, disobeying her commands. She couldn't stop the tremors that rocked her body. Even her breathing came in spurts.

But she maintained herself. She didn't cry or beg or try to roll over. She continued to glare at him as he lifted his head and crawled toward her, putting his grinning face in hers.

She cried out pitifully when he entered. She could do nothing to stop that. He moved slowly at first, watching her face and gauging her reactions. When he was certain of his victory, he began fucking her with great force. He didn't bother to make it last. She could tell that he wanted a quick, powerful orgasm. His finishing stroke.

She came again. Her body was useless, quaking like an epileptic in mid-seizure. Despite that, she watched his face, choosing her moment.

It came when he was getting close. Too certain of his victory, he closed his eyes for a moment.

She struck. With her last strength, she grabbed his arms, forcing him off balance, She convinced her quivering legs to help her flip his unsuspecting body over.

Still impaled by him, she forced her suffering body to keep moving, to keep fucking him. It was too late for him to resist. She felt him ejaculate inside her, barely sensing the jets of hot white semen shooting into her abused flesh.

_Victory._

She was done for. Instead of rolling off of him, she fell off. Her body was ruined, hopelessly unresponsive, utterly defenseless.

That's when it happened. His face was suddenly above hers. He looked down at her and, to her horror, kissed her cheek.

Over the last three years, his filthy lips had defiled every inch of her body. But only below the neck. _Never _had dared to put his disgusting mouth near hers.

White-hot panic shot through her as he kissed her cheek again, closer to her lips. Unable to stop him, his next kiss came closer, barely a few millimeters from her mouth.

She heard a muffled explosion. To her great relief, Zabuza raised his head and looked toward the window. He hopped out of bed and opened the sash just enough to peer out.

He groaned. "It's the cottage. The one the guy told us to sleep in. It's on fire." He squinted. "Samurai. Four of them. And... Yes. A couple of your friends. Konoha ANBU."

He turned toward her. "He was right. A samurai's word _is_ as worthless as his life."

He laid on the bed, his face uncomfortably close to hers. "Did he really think we were that stupid?"

He leaned in closer to her. His usually-sadistic eyes were surprisingly soft. Fortunately, she had recovered enough control to turn away from him.

She tried not to cry out in disgust when he kissed the back of her neck. She couldn't keep her heart from pounding. "What's our next job?" she said.

He chuckled softly and then was silent for a moment. "I'll tell you about it when we're on the road. After all, tomorrow's a special day. Remember?"

Her eyes went wide with fear. Then they narrowed. She smiled slightly. "Yes, Master. It will be a special day."


	6. And a Monster Cannot Love

**Chapter 6: And a Monster Cannot Love**

* * *

Before the sun came up, they awoke and packed their belongings, as they had so many times over the last three years. Sakura was surprised when she saw Zabuza clean the blood from the captain's helmet. She scowled at the horned monstrosity. "You're taking it with us?"

He held it up and looked into the blank eyes of the faceplate. "Makes a pretty nice trophy, don't you think?"

They slipped out of the cabin and crept their way south. Only a few samurai patrols were out. When Konoha's ANBU discovered that the bones in the ashes of the cottage belonged to other people, things would heat up considerably.

They moved in silence and stayed far enough from the road to avoid detection. By mid-morning, they reached the crossroads.

"Which way, Master?" said Sakura. "Southwest takes us to the Land of Earth, and southeast goes to the Land of Lightning. Or we could go south, to the Land of Fire."

Zabuza pointed to the east, to the road which led to the seaport. "We're going home. The Land of Water. We've got enough money now. Enough to make sure that all the wrong people are in all the right places."

He looked over at her. "Enough to take over as the new Mizukage. We can give up this life and grab the Land of Water by the balls." He gave her an evil grin. "And _squeeeeze_."

"And then what?"

His grin widened, showing his pointed teeth. "Then nothing. That's it. That's the top of the food chain. When you're the lead dog, you get to smell the fresh air. Everybody else has the pleasure of sniffing your shit and talking about what you had for dinner."

"You could make the world a better place."

"I will. For me." He looked into her eyes. "For us. Since it's your birthday today, I wanted to give you a little something to mark the occasion."

She saw his hand move to his vest pocket and panic stabbed at her chest. "Wait! I-I want to choose it."

His face was screwed up with confusion and hurt. "Choose? Your present? But you don't even know what I was going to-"

"I don't care. Show me later. I want to choose my birthday present. Please."

He huffed. His hand dropped. "Fine. What do you want?"

She gave him the biggest smile she could manage. "I want your sword."

He scowled. "I can't just give you a sword like this. You have to... to take it..."

She watched the color drain from his face.

"I know."

They both leapt backwards and found cover behind the trunks of trees. She saw a thick mist start to form around her. She knew it was his Hidden Mist Jutsu.

Through the mist, she heard his voice call to her. "Why? We're this close to getting everything we want."

She formed the rat seal and gathered her remaining chakra. He would send in his water clones next, and he would expect some from her as well. They both knew that her chakra had not recovered from last night and that he still had plenty of it.

She called back. "Everything _you _want. You have no clue about what I really need."

"The boy? I'll send all the hunters in the village after him. They'll even let you do the kill, if you want."

He was silent for a moment, probably listening for her clones. "Give it up, girl," he said. "You don't have a chance. I have all the chakra and I know all your techniques. There's no way you can win this. Especially not with my horny little friend here."

In the silence of the woods, she heard the very faint sound of the thermal camera charging up. She smiled. _Perfect._

She reached between her legs and touched herself. She hardly needed to. The promise that her fantasies would finally come true was enough to make her dark chakra rise. When she was sufficiently aroused, she manipulated the energy in her body and activated her jutsu.

Moments later, she heard the sounds of battle erupt from the mist as her clones battled his. Then she heard the faint sound of the thermal camera leveling off. _It's ready. Showtime._

Her right hand dabbed at the place where her legs joined. Her left hand found her right nipple and tugged on it, teasing it mercilessly. The anticipation of hearing him scream was too much to bear.

He called out to her again. From the muffled sound of his voice, she knew he had put on the helmet. "You're finished. You know that. You can't tell the difference between me and my clones. But I can see your body heat. Let's see... You're... right over..."

Her hands rubbed faster. She thrust her hips with the same rhythm, trying to spur herself on, to make it come quicker. _It's showtime. Let's go, girls._

"There you are. No. No, wait... How many...? That's...impossible."

She shouted. "Get him. Now!"

When she heard the sound of blades sinking into flesh, she rushed over to him, staggering slightly as she fought her need for release. Already the mists were starting to clear. He was standing, as best he could, against an old oak tree. A kunai had been thrust through each of his wrists, pinning him to the trunk. A dozen more had been jabbed through his legs, his shoulders, and his torso, holding him securely.

She nodded at the half-dozen shadow clones she had created. "Thank you, ladies." They nodded back and disappeared in puffs of smoke. She smiled as the clones' memories of his bloody crucifixion entered in her mind.

He spat at her. It missed. "When did you learn that little trick? I've never let you out of my sight."

"I saw Naruto do it a couple of times. I've spent most of the last three years trying to figure out how it works. I practiced every chance I got." She gestured to her belly. "I became an expert at manipulating my chakra inside here, where you couldn't see."

He glared at her. "I suppose you stole my other techniques too."

She reached down and picked up his massive sword with one hand, lifting it as though it was a feather. "Yes. All of them. And I didn't steal them. You handed them to me. Every time you unzipped your fly and exposed your jutsu, I was there, watching you, learning your secrets."

His eyes lowered. "Just like me." The he gazed at her again. "Looking at you is like looking in a mirror, girl."

Her eyes burned with a furious anger. "I'm _nothing _like you." She moved beside him and raised the sword. "It's time. Time for me to do all the fucking and you to do all the screaming."

"It doesn't have to end like this. We don't have to go back. We could stay here. Be together. Make our own family. A little house. A couple of kids. We've got enough money to last the rest of our-"

Her face contorted with rage. "With you? Zabuza, the child-killer? The child-_raper_? Do you have any idea how sick it made me every time you put your filthy hands on my body? And you want me to have _children _with you?"

"So what do you want?"

She breathed in and out, trying to relax. She couldn't. The desire was too strong. "I want to kill you, Zabuza. I've wanted that since the first time I saw you. I want my revenge."

"And the boy too. And then what?"

"Don't know yet. I'll work on that part later."

"We could do it together. You and me. Find the boy. Kill him. And then we could settle down. I can change. I could-I could be the servant and you can be my master. How about that? We don't have to have kids. We could... I don't know...do anything you want. Together."

"Because you're afraid to die? Because you'll do anything to save your wretched life?"

"No. It's because I..." He looked in her eyes. "Because I love you."

The sword passed cleanly through his neck and through the oak behind him. While the trunk fell away and crashed to the ground, his head rolled to her feet. Slowly, the eyes closed. He was dead.

The force of her orgasm sent her to her knees. Never before had her release been more powerful, more terrible, more overwhelming. It took several minutes for her body to stop convulsing. When it did, she looked up, into the blue sky, scarcely able to believe that the first stage of her revenge had finally come true.

She looked at the sword and saw that Zabuza's blood was being absorbed by the blade itself. The nicks on the edge began to disappear, leaving a cruel, keen edge.

"No wonder I never saw him sharpen you. You must use the iron in his blood to regenerate yourself. Neat trick."

She removed the straps from his body and adjusted them to fit her slender frame. Then she attached the sword to herself and grabbed both their packs.

She looked in his vest pocket, for the thing he had tried for months to keep hidden from her. As she thought, it was a ring. _Solid gold. A real diamond, too._ She tossed it onto the ground._ I'll leave it here. A present for the next person unlucky enough to find you._

She picked up the severed head. There were many things she had wanted to say to him before he died, but her need was too strong. She tossed the head into the woods and watched it roll. Then she left, heading South, toward the Land of Fire. Toward Konoha. And Sasuke.

She recalled his last words. Her eyes narrowed to slits. "That's impossible, Zabuza. Because you are a monster. And a monster cannot love."

* * *

Two weeks later, in the hilly forests near the Leaf Village, Sakura picked up his scent. It was fresh, and her belly knotted with anticipation.

She followed his trail through the woods, staying low, using Zabuza's Silent Kill technique to hide the sound of her footsteps. As she peered over a rise, she saw the back of his head.

She ducked down and closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe slowly and deeply. Her ears were filled with the thrum of her pounding heartbeat.

_Calm. Steady. Centered. Strong. You can do this._

_Let's go._

She kept watching the back of his head as she crept up to him. Though he seemed to remain calm, she wasn't about to take chances, not when she was so close.

_He hasn't changed a bit, has he? Taller. Broader shoulders. But still that same hair. And almost the same clothing. I wonder how much he's improved since then? Not as much as I have, I'll bet. Let's put that to the test._

She got within one meter of him when she felt the tip of a kunai press against her back, right under the obi of her dark green kimono. She froze.

Then she smiled. "You've gotten a lot better. Your timing and your stealth were perfect. I didn't know it was there until I felt it."

Naruto whirled about to face her. Tears began to fall from his eyes as his mouth hung open. "S-Sakura-chan?"

She balled her fists. Despite her intentions, she felt tears rolling down her own face. "Damn it, Naruto. You weren't supposed to make me cry. I was-"

He leapt forward, glomping onto her. Naruto's shadow clone, the one who held the kunai against her back, also grabbed on. They both squeezed her and cried out. "Sakura-chan! You're back!"

"Get off me you knucklehead!"

She pushed them both away. She smashed the face of the shadow clone with her fist. It disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Then she turned around. It was clear from the shocked expression on Naruto's face that he wasn't expecting her to be so strong.

"You doofus! I don't see you for three years and you pull _this_?"

She swung her fist again, connecting with the side of his face. He spun around and fell to the ground. And disappeared.

She turned around, scanning the forest with her eyes. "Where are you? The _real _you."

"Up here."

He jumped from a tree branch above her and landed a few meters away. She never though she would see such a hateful expression on his face.

"Is it true? Did you kill Kakashi-sensei?"

His words stabbed her heart like a knife. Her eyes looked down for a moment.

"Yes. It's true."

Then she stood erect and returned his stern look with one of her own. "Sasuke knocked me off the bridge. Kakashi tried to save me. That's how Zabuza managed to kill him."

Naruto's look softened. "So. It was Sasuke after all. You shouldn't-"

"No! _I_ killed him, Naruto. Me. I was the one who didn't watch out for Sasuke. I was the one who let my guard down. I was the one who trusted him, who believed all that bullshit about the Will of Fire and comrades and loyalty and all that."

Her tears started again. "I won't make that mistake again."

They were silent for a moment. She kicked a pebble into the woods and watched it roll away. When she spoke again, her voice was strained and off-key, like a shamisen whose strings had been over-tightened and were about to break.

"Did they...do things to you? When you got back?"

One of his eyes half-closed. "Do things?"

Her hands shook. "You know. Hurt you. Abuse you."

He turned and stared into the woods. "Don't think I'm a bad person for saying this, but..." He took a breath and exhaled it slowly. "Sometimes I wish they would. Sometimes, I think even _that _would be better than..."

He turned back and looked into her eyes. "Nobody touches me. Or speaks to me. Or looks at me. When I walk down the street, everybody disappears, locks their doors. They say 'it' is coming. The _demon_."

He thrust his hands into the pockets of his threadbare orange jumpsuit. "A couple of years ago, I heard somebody call you a..." He looked away again. "A bad word. I got mad. Really mad. I lost control and people got hurt. Now everybody hates me, even more than they did before. I'm not welcome in my own village and I'm not allowed to leave it. Even getting a patrol mission outside the walls took me forever."

When he pulled his hands from his pockets, she saw that he had formed them into fists. "Did _he_ touch you? That Zabuza guy?"

She squinted. In the strange gloom of the forest, his eyes almost seemed to take on a red-orange glow.

"No. Try as they might, no one can touch _me_." She jabbed her fingers at her chest. "Not here. Not anybody. Not anymore." She dropped her hand. "Never again."

She put her hands on her hips. "Where is he, Naruto? Where's Sasuke?"

"Why?"

"Because he owes me. He took my life from me. My family. My village. My childhood. My..."

She winced. _The grunts. The helplessness. His fingers, dipping into my sauce. The pain. The way he felt when he-_

She snapped her eyes open and glared at him. "Where is he? Tell me. Now."

"Why? So you can kill him? And when you do, you think you'll get all that stuff back?"

"I'll consider it a down payment. Where can I find him?"

He looked down at the ground. "You can't. He's gone. After the Sound and Sand destroyed our village and killed the Third, he ran off to join Orochimaru. I tried to stop him, but..." A sadness filled his eyes. He gritted his teeth, as though the memories were causing him pain. "It's over. Danzo, the fifth Hokage, ordered his death. And no one's been able to find him since."

"I'll track him down, Naruto. I'll kill him myself."

"Don't. Promise me you won't." He looked into her eyes. "He's still our comrade."

She watched him straighten up. There was a weird look in his eyes, one she hadn't seen since their days with Kakashi-sensei. "And I will not allow my comrades to die."

Inside, his words cast bright sparks upon the dry tinder of her soul, threatening to reignite the yellow flame that once burned there. Her heart, shriveled and forgotten, began to stir once again. A warmth started to fill her chest, spreading out from the spot she had jabbed at moments before.

She clutched the front of her kimono, steeling herself, fighting off the tyranny of his invasion. _Stop it, Naruto. I won't allow anybody to touch me there. Not again._

_Never again._

She glared at him. "Don't tell me you still believe in all that stuff. Those lies they taught us. And you _know _they're lies. You see it every day. In the faces of the people who hate you. Who piss on you. Who rape your heart and your soul. Every minute of every day."

She crossed her arms and faked a sarcastic sneer. "And let me guess. You still want to be Hokage, right? The leader of this shithole of a village, protecting the people who _hate _you."

He looked her straight in the eyes. "Yes. That's still my dream. To be the greatest Hokage ever."

The wind picked up, enveloping them in a swirl of fresh green leaves. She saw that a single cherry blossom petal, carried for who-knows-how long by the strong winds of Spring, was dancing among them. The treetops danced as well and, for a moment, a hole opened in the canopy above, letting the golden sunlight fall on Naruto's face.

She turned, unable to accept such an impossible vision, unwilling to show him the tears that threatened to spill again.

"Then you're an idiot. Because that can never happen. Not when everybody in the village is afraid of you and hates your guts."

"Including you?"

She paused, feeling the tears drip from her chin, waiting until she was strong enough to speak without sobbing. "I'm...not a part of this village anymore."

"You could be. When I'm the Hokage, I can change things. Get rid of the charges against you. Make you one of us again."

Her brow furrowed. "Are you going to change the whole shinobi world, too? Turn their lies into the truth?"

"Yes."

She grabbed the front of her kimono again. _Stop. You can't do this to me. I won't let you. Not again._

They were both surprised when a large man came crashing through the underbrush. He had a long mop of greyish-white hair, framed by a metal headband that had the symbol for "oil" carved into it.

He gave them a broad smile. "Well, well. I leave you alone for fifteen minutes and you've already got yourself a girlfriend. " He leaned towards Naruto. "What's your secret, kid? Tell me. I'm dying to know."

He turned to her and looked her up and down, nearly drooling as his gaze lingered on her breasts and hips.

She also checked him out, staring at his outrageous clothing and bizarre, leering expression. She smiled politely as she wondered which village was missing its idiot.

"Jiraya," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Just Jiraya. And you are...?"

"Just passing through." She chuckled softly. "You know, one of the legendary San-nin is also named Jiraya."

He smiled. "You don't say. Some people call me the Toad Sage. Others, women especially, call me the greatest lover this world has ever-"

Naruto blew a raspberry. "Ah, just call him the Pervy Sage. I always do."

Jiraya's face twinged. "Damn it, Naruto. I'm trying to get _acquainted _with this beautiful young lady and-"

She held up her hand. "I've got to be going, Jiraya-san. Have to find someone. Collect a debt."

Naruto stepped forward. "Promise me, Sakura. Promise me you won't kill him."

She turned away. "I can't."

"Promise me."

Her shoulders dropped. "I'll...think about it." She paused for a moment. "Goodbye, Naruto."

"Until next time, Sakura-chan."

Three steps later, Jiraya opened his big mouth. "Hey, pretty lady, don't go like this. I'll escort you out. Wait here, Naruto. I'll train you later."

They traveled half a kilometer in silence. Then Sakura pointed at an old oak tree ahead. "I'm going over there. That's where I-"

"Left your huge sword? Yes, I've been trailing you since you entered the forest. That's quite a blade. If you have it, then it means your master's dead, Haruno-san. By your hand?"

She smiled. "He was my master until I became stronger than him. That was the deal. Now my real mission can begin. Do you know where-"

"He's with Orochimaru. He keeps Sasuke by his side. Always. You know what will happen, don't you? When he's ready, he'll devour Sasuke's soul and take over his body. All to get his Sharingan eyes."

She looked over at Jiraya. His idiotic expression had fallen away, revealing the face of a well-seasoned shinobi. If she squinted, she might possibly mistake him for the actual San-nin.

"So, Sasuke finally got his Sharingan eyes. It explains how he defeated Haku on the bridge. And I suppose he thunks that he'll defeat this Orochimaru guy before that happens. Where do I find him?"

"That's the hard part. He always travels in secret and it's difficult even for me to track him down. If you want to find him, look for his little ass-licker. A skinny punk with glasses named Kabuto. Like you, he used to be a Leaf ninja."

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet. If Orochimaru's trained him, he'll be extremely dangerous. You won't have the skills to take him down."

She continued to stare straight ahead. "We'll see."

His voice took on a concerned tone. "What's your interest in Naruto? I can tell. You want something more from him than just Sasuke's current mailing address."

She took a breath and exhaled. "I want what's inside him."

His hand right moved to his belt, near his weapons pouch. "You do, huh?"

"Yes. I want to put that inside me. I want that kind of power. More than anything else in this world."

His finger played with the cover to the pouch, teasing the snap on the cover. "And what power is that, little lady? What's inside him that you want so much?"

She stopped and turned toward him. She looked in his eyes.

"Faith. The faith I used to have. That there's something more to the shinobi world than this. Than fucking and being fucked." She sighed. "Am I an idiot for wanting that?"

He smiled. "Yes. And that's what makes us both idiots. That's what I've been searching for my whole life. That's why I write books that nobody ever reads. And teach ninjutsu to people who are foolish enough to believe the same thing."

"Like Naruto."

"Yes." He looked over at the oak tree, now only a few meters away. "And revenge won't give you your faith back."

She walked over and strapped the sword's harness on her shoulders. "It's just like they say." She lifted the sword, which was longer than she was tall. "When all you've got is a hammer, then all your problems start looking like nails."

He watched her reach back and attach the sword. "Perhaps you need a stronger tool."

She pulled at her kimono, smoothing out the places where the straps made the fabric bunch. "Like what?"

"Strongest tool I know is faith itself. Perhaps you might have a bit more of it than you think. Give it a try."

She shot him an annoyed glance. Then she turned to go. "I'll...think about it."


	7. The Need

**Chapter 7: The Need**

* * *

Two months later, in the Land of Grass, Sakura sat in the corner of a crowded inn and scanned the faces of the customers once more. Last week, she received her best lead yet, a rumor that Kabuto would be here tonight, looking to hire "strong warriors." But with midnight looming closer, she fingered the handle of her sword as she tried to keep her impatience from boiling over.

The plump serving girl sang out to the other patrons as she passed by. Sakura scowled at her insufferable smile.

As the girl maneuvered her ample hips through the crowd of drunken men, she turned to avoid someone staggering back from the restroom. When she did, one of the cups of red wine on her tray fell over. The splash peppered Sakura's white kimono with dark red spots.

The girl turned. "Sorry, m'lady. I didn't mean to-" Her words froze when she saw the expression burning on Sakura's face. Then she glanced down and saw the keen edge of Sakura's huge sword. Her smile evaporated.

Sakura didn't remember standing or picking up the blade. All she knew was that her body, untouched and unbidden, was filling with her dark chakra.

The girl set her tray down, grabbed a bartowel, and prepared to dab the stains on Sakura's kimono. "Awful sorry, m'lady. A good washing and that'll-" Her words froze again when she looked closer and realized that Sakura's outfit was not cotton, but fine silk. The red stains would never wash out.

The barman rushed over. He smiled and bowed and tried not to look directly at Sakura's menacing blade. "Pardon my wife, m'lady. If there's anything we can do to make up for it." He widened his smile but that only made the corner of his mouth twitch worse. "Perhaps we could, uhm...pay for the damages and-"

Sakura's eyes narrowed. _Pay? For this? It's imported fabric, hand tailored. It's worth more than this whole stinking heap and the land it squats on. _She took a step towards them. _You have no idea what you've cost me. If I go back and change and miss Kabuto, then there goes my only chance for revenge. _She took another step. Her rising anger made the world look as red as blood._ And I will let nothing - nothing! - stand between me and my revenge._

Just as she started to draw back her sword, a small boy scrambled from behind the bar and grabbed the serving girl's leg. "Momma!" he said. He smiled and laughed as he looked up at the girl's face. Then he saw Sakura towering above him, her stained white robe dripping with red, her lips curled with rage, glaring down at him like the demon goddess of slaughter incarnate.

The girl tried to pull the boy behind her, but he escaped her quivering grasp. He stood in front of his mother and looked up at Sakura, into her dark, brutal eyes.

His held up his fists. "Don't you be mean to my momma," he said. "Or you'll have to go through me, lady."

Slowly, Sakura's expression began to soften. After a long pause she brought her blade up. Then she reached back and fastened it to its strap.

"Don't worry, kid," she said. "If I'm going to be mean to somebody tonight, it won't be your momma."

* * *

In the bathroom, Sakura stared into the mirror with wide eyes. Her body shook and her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the sink. She breathed in and out, forcing herself to calm down.

It wasn't working. Her need was overpowering her thin veneer of restraint.

It wasn't simply her hatred anymore. During her three years with Zabuza, she had taught herself to harness the power of her hatred. Without him, her lust for Sasuke's blood would have remained a dull, shapeless mass, weighing her down as it burned inside her. By becoming Zabuza's murderer, by doing to others what she would have done to _him_, she learned how to turn her hate into a weapon, one that was sharper, stronger and more lethal than the one strapped to her back.

And by becoming his whore, she learned how to hold her hate at bay. She taught herself to bow and to serve and to submit. To allow herself fucked, as he had so often put it. She even found a way to smile at him, as though grateful for the horrors he subjected her to.

But now, as she stared into the mirror and tried to recognize the face she saw, she realized that there was more than the simple need to kill the boy who ripped the heart from her chest. When she was with Zabuza, when his filthy hands pawed her body, all she could think about was getting away from his sadistic, unquenchable perversions.

"But now...," she said to her unfamiliar reflection as her eyes traced its gentle curves, from the pouting breasts with tips that were hard day and night to the slender hips that were almost numb from two months of agonizing want.

She leaned forward, pushing herself against the sink, hoping that the cool porcelain would bring relief to her suffering flesh. Instead, the pressure was making it worse.

These were the times when she hated herself the most. The times when her body longed for his cruel touch. When it cried out for his brutal flesh, pounding inside her, threatening to split her in half. The times when she yearned for exactly that, to be utterly destroyed by unstoppable lust.

_Or to destroy him with it_. The corners of her mouth began to curl.

She pictured him. bent over the table, pants down, as vulnerable and exposed as she had once been. The rush of pleasure as her flesh cleaved his. His body flailing as he tried to resist her. The satisfaction of his warm, quivering defeat.

She thrust her hips against the sink as she lost herself to her visions. Her reflection shook in time with the rhythm as she pressed harder and faster. She lightly brushed one of the points that strained against her robe and a needy moan escaped her throat.

And then she imagined it was Sasuke.

She had to bite her hand to keep herself silent. Her hips pounded against the sink as her eyes half-closed. It wasn't long before the mirror started to rattle. Soon after, the soap toppled and fell to the floor.

She felt her dark chakra rise as she surrendered to the fantasy of raping him, just as brutally as she had been. She could barely breath as she felt the tension build up inside her, screaming for release.

Someone banged on the door. "You about done in there?" said a voice. "I can't hold it much longer."

"I'm coming!" she said. "Give me a minute!"

But she didn't continue. The mood was gone. Her fantasy had abandoned her.

She picked up the soap and put back on the sink. She straightened her kimono and painted a smile on her face, the kind that an innocent teenaged girl might wear. Then she used a paper towel to dab the spots of blood from the deep bite marks in her hand.

She glanced at her reflection once more. "Just a little longer," she whispered to it. "When he's dead, we won't need the dark chakra any more."

Her reflection said nothing, its smiling face staring back at her with cold, cruel eyes.

Finally, when she was ready to face the world again, she reached for the lock with fingers that shook.

* * *

When she emerged from the restroom, the only man not looking at her was sitting alone at a corner table, reading a book. In front of him sat a cold dinner and a warm beer, both untouched.

When he noticed her standing in front of his table, he set the book down and pushed his glasses up with his middle finger. Then he gestured to the chair across from him. "Go on. Sit. Tell me the usual sad story. Good man from a poor family, falling on hard times, making a few mistakes, offering me his undying loyalty, and all that crap." Then he looked up at her face and gave her a creepy smile. "For the ladies, of course, the story always begins 'I met this man, you see.'"

She remained standing. "Are you Kabuto Yakushi?"

He rolled his eyes. "If you didn't know I who I was, then you wouldn't be standing in front of me, begging for work."

She crossed her arms. "My name's Sakura. I was a Leaf Shinobi. Once." Her gaze drifted downward. "A thousand years ago. Anyway, I'm skilled at-"

He held up his hand. "Relax. That sword is all the resume you need. You must be Zabuza's whore. Former whore, I should say, if you've got that blade."

She looked into his eyes. "I have his sword but I don't have his contacts. It's hard to find clients, especially with the ANBU hunting me down."

He looked her up and down, disinterested, as though it was something he was expected to do when a woman offered herself to him. "You're in luck. I have a job that's suited to your...unique talents."

He led her into the wooded hills. Any other night, she might have been tempted to stop and stare at the dim outlines of the mountains, far off in the Land of Earth. But tonight, it was taking all she had to maintain her composure.

After an hour, she saw a set of steps, carved into the limestone. He led her down into the darkness.

At the bottom was a door and he gestured for her to open it. When she did, three hulking men barred her way, demanding to know who she was and who sent her. When they saw Kabuto's face, the shouts stopped. The men stood at attention and let them pass.

He led her down long, roughly-hewn passages that wound through the earth. As they walked, their path was becoming increasingly difficult for Sakura to remember, and she suspected that this was not a coincidence.

As they walked, her heart beat faster. Her teeth chattered, the way a cat's does when it creeps closer to its prey.

Kabuto swung open a door and led her inside. Beyond it, the chamber was dark despite the burning torches on the walls. To her left she saw a man in a long robe, sitting on a carved marble throne, as gray as a tombstone. His hair was long and black, and his face was odd, like that of a snake trying to look like a human.

Kabuto stood in front of him and bowed. "I have brought the girl, Lord Orochimaru." He glanced at her. "She took the bait without question."

Orochimaru chuckled. "What else can a starving rat do? Either way, if it steals the cheese or if it's killed by the trap, it knows its hunger will be over."

She crossed her arms. "Is that what this is? A trap?"

Orochimaru smiled and held up his palms. "No, no. I'm very much in earnest. I have someone I'd like you to try and kill. I warn you, though. He's very dangerous. If you don't feel up to the task, however, I-"

"I'll do it," she said.

Orochimaru stared at her for a second. Then he roared with laughter. He turned to Kabuto. "This is truly a first. An assassin who doesn't quibble about the price." He cut is eyes over to her. "As if we don't know what she came for." He looked into her eyes and leaned toward her. "My sweet little Sasuke-kun."

She blushed. Part of it was due to his words, exposing her need and leaving her feeling stripped bare. But the greater part was that the mere mention of his name made her blood race and her head swoon.

Orochimaru grinned at Kabuto. "Look at her. So shameless is her desire. So reckless her passion." Then he sat up straight and looked directly at her. "Many of Danzo's men have come here to collect Sasuke's head. None have come close. What makes you think you'll be the first?"

Her heart was pounding and her breath started to come in pants. "I wasn't...sent by...the Leaf."

"No. Of course you weren't. None of us were." He tilted his head back. "And yet all of us were. Cast into exile by our former masters. By their _lies_. I know you're at the top of their must-kill list, just like me and Kabuto. And Sasuke-kun, of course." He grinned again. "All of us, sharing the same karma."

Then a little of the evil glint left his eyes. For a moment, his gaze drifted from her face and peered into the darkness behind her. "And sharing the same fate."

She straightened her spine and forced her breathing to relax. "My lord. When you...killed the Third...your own sensei...how-"

He clicked his tongue and turned away from her, disgusted. "How could I kill that old coot? Is that what you're asking? You're no different from the others." He glanced at her. "As if _you _don't know what it takes to murder your master."

"No...my Lord. That's...not it. I'm asking you how..." The corners of her mouth began to curl into an evil grin. "...how it _felt_."

The corners of his mouth started to pull back as well. "It was..." He paused for a moment as if gauging his feelings. "Glorious. Purest heaven." He chuckled. "Anything else you wish to know?"

She looked at the floor. "Yes. After you did it. When you knew it was...it was finally over...how did..." She looked at up him again. "How did you feel then?"

She watched his evil grin soften and fade and shrivel. In her eyes, he seemed to shrink, dwarfed by his massive gray throne. He looked away for a moment as if lost in thought.

Then he snapped his head up and looked directly into her eyes. "Find out for yourself." He waved his hand toward the darkest corner of the room. "There is your target. Kill him. If you can."

She turned and stared into the darkness. In the gloom, she saw two red glowing dots appear. They rose and approached her. As she craned her neck forward for a better view, she could see that they looked just like Kakashi's eye, the one he kept hidden behind his headband.

_The...Sharingan?_

As the dots came closer, she saw a shape, even darker than the gloom, begin coalesce around them. Then the shape emerged into the dim light.

She saw that it was Sasuke Uchiha. And the world turned as red as blood.


	8. Sasuke

**Chapter 8: Sasuke**

* * *

Sakura's dark chakra erupted inside her. Teeth bared, she manipulated its flow with lightning speed, conjuring the Hidden Mist jutsu.

"No handsigns?" said Orochimaru.

All around her, the dark room filled with mist, composed of tiny droplets of water drawn from the cracks in the limestone walls. A few seconds later, the torchlight was swallowed up by the fog.

She snatched the handle of her blade, and brought it up and around her shoulder. She was careful to angle the blade so that the flat side was facing Sasuke. That way, he could hear the sound of it fighting to pass through the stale air. She knew that it would make him duck down to avoid her all-too-obvious strike to his neck.

Then she turned the blade and pointed the cutting edge downward. It sped silently through the mist, toward the stone floor. A half-meter above, she thrust it forward. If she was lucky, he would have dropped down by then, and point of her sword would sink into his belly. If not, she would settle for slicing into his legs, severing one of his femoral arteries.

But her blade met no resistance. She leapt backwards to avoid a counter-attack.

Then she heard Sasuke's voice, calling to her through the mist. "A good strategy," he said. "For anyone else. But against these eyes, it's useless."

The sound of his words made her grit her teeth. She knew that the Sharingan could see the flow of chakra, but she had infused the mist with her dark energy. He was as just as blind as she was. "Awfully proud of those, aren't you? How did you got them? By betraying me?"

"Yes."

When she heard that, the urge to rush in and tear him to pieces with her bare hands was almost too much to bear. But she held herself back. She had to keep him talking. She had always planned to find him by smell, but the dank subterranean air was masking his scent. His voice was now the only way to locate him.

"Is that how it works?" she said. She used the Silent Kill technique to creep to her right. "Fuck over the people closest to you, who _trusted _you, and you get a brand-new pair of magical eyes?"

Behind her, Orochimaru cleared his throat. "Be careful how you answer that, Sasuke-kun. Some secrets need to stay secret. Until the time is right, of course."

While he said that, she took two more silent steps to the right. When he finished, she tilted her ear toward Sasuke and waited for his response.

"You only gain power," she heard Sasuke say, "by defeating strong opponents. And Haku was strong. Strong enough to unleash my birthright. Your mistake was getting in my way."

She took another step to the right and activated her jutsu, being careful to make no sound whatsoever. She was aware that he was trying to triangulate her position as well. _And, like you, there's something I need to keep secret until the right moment._

She heard him breath in. And then, with a hateful voice, he said, "And I will let nothing - nothing! - get in the way of my revenge."

In that moment, just as she was about to launch her strike, she hesitated. In her mind, she pictured the little boy in the tavern, standing between her and his mother. And the torso of Inari, bobbing in the water, cut in half by the sword she had coveted for so long.

Then she pictured herself, bent over the table, flailing helplessly. And Sasuke, on the bridge.

"Now!" she screamed as she launched herself forward. As she did, she brought up her sword.

Three steps away from him, she felt her dark chakra peak, charging her with terrible power. Two steps away, she could finally smell his scent, and her body, aching with need, was overtaken by bloodlust. One step away, she began to swing her blade, aiming for his neck.

At this range, she knew he could finally see her chakra, but that would only make her revenge sweeter. She had spent last three years training for this moment and she knew her timing would be absolutely perfect.

Simultaneously, her and the half-dozen shadow clones she created sliced into him. Each of them struck at different heights. No matter where he turned, no matter how he raised his guard or twisted his body, she was guaranteed to cut him down.

Her heart leapt with joy when she felt her sword sever his neck. She also heard the other six blades hacking into his flesh.

Her body yearned for release but she held herself back until the mist cleared. Then, when she looked down and saw his lifeless head, surrounded the chunks of bleeding meat, she permitted herself to spill over the edge.

She fell, as if the floor had reached up and grabbed her and pulled down. She held herself as her body convulsed, wrapping her arms around her chest and waist, feeling that if she didn't bind herself then she might actually be torn apart by the terrible waves of ecstasy that coursed through her. She cried out, loudly and without shame, not knowing if she wept while she did it or if she simply felt the last remnants of the mist trickling down her face.

"Magnificent," she heard Orochimaru say. "Never in my life have I seen such a display. I had heard the rumors, of course, but..." He chuckled. "So, girl, tell me. What is the answer to your question? Look inside yourself. Tell me how it feels to have finally gotten what you desired."

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Now that her release was subsiding, her body felt limp but not heavy; rather, she felt so light that she thought she might float. She smiled.

The tension she had carried for three years was finally gone. The nightmare was over. She felt as if she could breathe again.

Then her smile began to falter. She glanced at Sasuke's head for a moment and then looked away.

"Regrets?" said Orochimaru.

She took a breath. "Naruto wanted me to promise that I wouldn't kill Sasuke. I hadn't thought about that until just now." Then she stared up at the ceiling and sighed.

He sat up and scooted forward until he was on the edge of his throne. "But you still haven't answered the question." He leaned forward and sneered at her. "How does it feel?"

She looked up at the ceiling. She started to smile but she realized that something wasn't right. Deep inside her, in the pit of her stomach, she still felt her need. The red flame was still burning. The light in her eyes grew dim as she felt the need growing inside her, getting stronger.

She sat up. "I don't understand," she said to herself. "That was supposed to..."

"And that is our fate," said Orochimaru. "The purgatory to which our souls have been damned." He stood up and walked over to her. "For decades, I trained myself, mastering all the techniques of ninjutsu to get my revenge. And then, when I was strong enough to take on the Third, I assembled my forces, marched into his precious little village, and made him watch as I burned his city and squashed his loyal followers like so many cockroaches." He spat. "The Will of Fire," he said with a cruel, mocking voice. "He's the one who had the will. All we ever got was the fire."

He looked down at her. "When I watched his eyes close for the last time, I felt an immense satisfaction." He chuckled. "Nothing compared to pleasure _you _experience. And then, after I threw his corpse from the top of the Hokage Monument and watched it smash into the ground below, I realized the truth. That it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. I could kill the whole world and my lust for blood would still be there, digging at my soul."

He returned to his throne. "I suppose I could have warned you." He turned and sat and flashed her a smile, framed by cold, cruel eyes. "But we both know it wouldn't have stopped you."

She stood up. Inside her, the need had become as strong as ever, as though nothing had happened. "Did Sasuke know?" she said. She took a breath and turned to face the throne. "Did he know his revenge would turn him into a monster?"

"Oh, yes. I made sure he understood the consequences." Orochimaru sat back and rested his shoulders against the cold marble. "Do you want to know why he accepted so quickly? Even knowing that I planned to take over his body and consume his soul?"

"Because all he cared about was his revenge," she said as she stared at Sasuke's body. Like him, she was prepared to sacrifice anything and everything for her revenge, even her own soul.

Orochimaru chuckled. "Well, more than just that. When I gain the Sharingan, when I finally kill Itachi and fulfill Sasuke's revenge..." He paused for a moment and glanced at his left hand. "...and mine, Saskuke-kun's soul will be able to rest in peace. I will be the one who will endure the weight of his karma. As well as my own."

"Itachi?" she said. "Who the hell is that?" Then a sick feeling filled her belly. "And why are you talking about Sasuke in the present tense?"

She turned. Sasuke's corpse was gone. Even the blood had disappeared. Her eyes opened wide as she scanned the dark room.

And then, in the same corner as before, she saw two red Sharingan eyes.

"I told you," said Sasuke as he walked into the dim light, "techniques like that are useless against these eyes."

Her eyes opened wide. _Genjutsu? Did he cast a genjutsu on me? Without handsigns? _She had been subjected to genjutsu before, but always they were clumsy attempts to bludgeon her senses into submission, as easy to detect as they were to dispel.

She felt herself smile. "You even simulated your scent. And your neck..." Then she felt her lips start to curl. "You made it feel just like the real thing."

"You were stupid to come here," he said. "Only an Uchiha can match my power."

"Or your ego." She picked up her sword. "Too bad there won't be any left after tonight."

"Except for my brother. Itachi." He stepped toward her. "He's the one who slaughtered my clan. My parents. Right in front of me. And made me watch." He took another step. "You _think _you know what pain is. What suffering is. You have no idea how that feels! When the person you look up to - your _hero _- takes your whole world away from you. Rips your heart from your chest. And all that he left me was my need for vengeance."

She shook her head. "Of course I know what that feels like. You taught me very well. Now, can you imagine what it felt like, when Zabuza...when he..." She paused while she tried to find the words to describe the past three years. Finally, when she could no longer resist her lust for Sasuke's blood, she hoisted her sword and ran toward him. "I'll just _show _you how it felt!"

Sasuke inhaled, formed a series of handsigns, and then blew balls of fire at her. She knew her best defense would be one of Zabuza's water-style techniques. She also realized that Sasuke knew this as well.

As she ran, she pictured herself drawing a warm yellow energy from the ground below her. In an instant, she sent it circling around her belly, amplifying it with her chakra with each rotation. Just as her next step touched the floor, she sent the energy back into the ground through her foot, which forced a large chunk of limestone to rise up. It blocked the fireballs and clouded the air with smoke and dust.

"An earth-style jutsu?" said Orochimaru. "But didn't you just use-"

Just then, she heard several shuriken clang against the chunk of rock. _I was right. His Phoenix Flower Jutsu was a trick. If I countered with a water-style defense, the shuriken would have passed right through. Now, if I was him I'd use a-_

Through the smoke, she watched a large fireball appear and slam against the limestone barrier. The rock held, just as she expected it to. _He wants me to think he's wasted his technique. He knows that when the fire heats up the wet stone it will blow up, right in my face. Unless..._

She inhaled, pulling a cool silvery-white energy from the air into her lungs. At the same time, she generated a hot red chakra from deep within her belly. She circled them both around her heart, letting them mix. Then she pointed her empty hand at the stone and forced the combined energy out through her palm.

The focused fire chakra, amplified by the wind chakra, made the chunk of rock explode on contact. She kept up the flow, forcing all the jagged pieces of burning limestone to fly towards Sasuke.

An instant later, she charged forward, raising her sword as she raced through the smoky air. When she saw the outline of Sasuke's body, she started her attack. _Now, nothing will stop me from-_

She stopped. The person on the other side of the smoke wore an orange jumpsuit.

"You promised," said Naruto. "You promised me you wouldn't kill him."

She blinked her wide eyes. "Naru-" Then she stepped forward and violently slashed him with her blade. Her face was twisted with a hateful expression as she watched his head and his body fall.

She looked around her. "Very funny," she said. "I knew the truth when I saw how good his jumpsuit looked. It's been a couple of years since you've seen him, hasn't it?" Her expression grew more furious. "And you have no idea what they've put him through. All because you betrayed us, you bastard."

When nothing happened, she whirled around again. "Is this the best that the great Uchiha Clan can offer? Do you always let your illusions do the fighting for you?"

Naruto's body disappeared. Behind it, in the dark corner, she saw the two Sharingan eyes again. This time, as Sasuke emerged into the light, the eyes went dark. "Fine," he said. "So, it's a fair fight you want."

She smiled. "No."

Six of her shadow clones appeared around him. "Now!" she screamed.

All six swung their blades simultaneously, and all six blades passed through Sasuke.

Or so she had thought. She suddenly saw him appear outside of the circle of clones.

He started with the closest one, bringing his hand around her clone's head and grabbing her chin. He pulled up and back, forcing her off balance. Then, in one swift motion, he slammed the clone's head downward, smashing it against the stone floor.

Sakura winced when the memory of her clone's brutal death entered her mind. Unfortunately for her, that first death was the most gentle.

Sasuke then grabbed another by the face, ripping the skin from the front of her skull. The next managed to swing at him before he thrust his hand into her belly and yanked out her intestines.

He easily ducked under the fourth clone's strike, came up next to her, and smashed his fist into her face, nearly tearing off her jaw. The fifth's attack also failed. He rammed his fist into her chest and managed to pull out her beating heart before she, like the others, disappeared. At the same time, the last clone thrust her blade at his midsection. He stepped to the side and the blade barely missed him. He then grabbed the sword away from her, whirled around, and sliced her in half with it.

When the cloned sword vanished, Sasuke turned and faced her. "Good," he said. He reached behind him and pulled a long straight blade from its sheath. "Because I had no intention of giving you a fair fight."

She knew the time had come to use Zabuza's ultimate sword technique. She dig the tip of her blade into the stone floor and used the muscles of her body to exert great force upon it. When he was close enough, she would release the stored tension, and the force would shoot the tip of the sword up and into his belly at great speed. She suppressed a smile. No one had ever evaded this strike. And the best part was that she didn't need chakra to do it. Even if he used the Sharingan, his eyes wouldn't be able to see her trap until it was too late, especially with her flexing muscles hidden beneath the layers of her stained and grimy kimono.

He advanced toward her, keeping his sword at the ready. His eyes flitted between her and her blade, and the slightly confused look on his face betrayed his ignorance to the danger he was facing. As he came within striking range, the dark chakra inside her screamed for release.

She shot the tip of her sword upward and into his midsection. The slight resistance as it entered his belly made her moan with bloodlust.

And then she heard the clatter of metal falling on limestone.

She looked down. The sound she heard was the blade of her sword, which had been cut off near the hilt. All that remained in her hand was a stub, only a few inches long. And when she couldn't see his blade, she looked further down.

His sword was so sharp that it not only cut through the Executioner's Blade, but stabbed through her belly without her realizing it. She watched her kimono, already stained by the wine, start to become soaked with her blood. She looked up and saw him grinning at her.

"Did you really promise Naruto that you wouldn't kill me?" he said.

Then the pain hit. In spite of that, she was able to raise the sharp, jagged remains of her blade. "No." She stared at his neck, where his carotid arteries pulsed invitingly. "The only thing I promised to do was-"

For the briefest of moments, Sasuke released the handle of his sword. His fingers flew as he formed a complex set of seals. Then he grabbed the blade again. Lightning shot through the metal and into her body.

The electricity paralyzed her muscles. All she could do was stare at his smug expression.

Then she called upon her dark chakra for just a little more power. "All I promised..." She began to move again, just as she had alway managed to do with Zabuza when he thought that he had sexually defeated her. "...was that I'd fuck you..." She raised her jittering sword and prepared for her strike. "...just like you fucked me."

But it was too late. She had lost too much blood. She felt the broken sword fall from her hand and heard it clunk against the floor. Then everything went dark and she felt the cold of the limestone floor against her back.

In the darkness, she heard Sasuke's voice. "I told you, master. I need to fight _strong _opponents."

"Best I could do, Sasuke-kun," said Orochimaru. "There aren't many left who can give you a decent challenge. Besides Itachi. And me, of course."

Then the darkness wrapped her in its cold embrace. She heard no more.

* * *

When Sakura awoke, she was lying naked on a cold metal table. Through bleary eyes, she stared at the patterns of light and shadow that the flickering candles cast on the ceiling. Her body hurt, especially where he had run her through.

Her eyelids felt as heavy as her body. For a moment, she wondered if it wouldn't be such a bad thing to shut her eyes again and let the universe take her where it willed. Slowly, her eyes flickered and closed, and the dancing lights melted into dark oblivion. _No, that wouldn't be such a bad thing at all._

Then she heard a door open. Her eyes opened wide. _Sasuke?_

Her eyes narrowed when she saw that it was Kabuto. He was accompanied by a young woman, around Sakura's age, with red hair and glasses.

With his fingers, Kabuto forced the lids of her left eye apart and pointed the beam of a pocket flashlight into it. He repeated this on her right side. "She's still alive. Pupil response normal. No major brain damage yet. I stopped the bleeding earlier but she still has a lot of intestinal damage. Try fixing it, like I showed you."

As Sakura watched, the woman performed a number of seals. Sakura was careful to observe the motions of her hands and body. Then the woman held her hands over the place where Sasuke's blade had run her through.

Sakura could feel the woman's chakra enter her. In her mind's eye, she saw it as a green beam of intensely-focused energy. She gritted her teeth when felt her intestines begin to wriggle around inside her body, and gave pitiful moans when she felt the agony of them being reconnected.

Kabuto shot her a nasty look. "Easy, Karin. She's going to break the sutures if you're too rough with her. I'll give her a shot and put her out."

As Kabuto prepared the syringe, the woman gave Sakura a hateful stare. "Are you the one, you little bitch? The one who tried to kill my Sasuke-kun?"

The woman's chakra moved and began to focus on the small muscles and tendons along Sakura's spine. The intense pain made Sakura cry out as her back arched.

Kabuto turned around. "Easy! If you kill her, I'll make you repeat the lesson. On yourself." He tapped the bubbles from the syringe. "Besides, she didn't come close to killing him. The whole thing was a pathetic joke."

Sakura felt a little prick from Kabuto's syringe. Soon, the pain began to lessen. She felt her eyelids get heavier.

She heard the woman's voice again. It had a bubbly tone. "So, is his sexy little butt still around here?"

Kabuto moaned with annoyance. "No. He and the master have gone away. They won't be back for quite a long time. By then, the master will have claimed him." Then Kabuto clicked his tongue. "Besides, it wouldn't do you any good. The master won't allow anyone to stain the purity of his virginal little pet."

She felt herself descending into the darkness again. _No, that wouldn't be such a bad thing at all. To drift away. To forget all this. To let the universe take me where it wills. Far from here. Where things are different. A world without-_

Her eyes burst open. _No!_

"Heart rate's climbing. Get her stable, Karin."

_I'm not giving up._

"Shit. Blood pressure's too high. Let me-"

"I'm on it, sir. I've got it."

_Where was the universe when Zabuza was cutting that little boy in half? When he threw me on the table? When Naruto was all alone, crying, hated by everyone?_

"You better not die on me, you little bitch."

_Where was the universe when Sasuke turned away from me?_

"Give her another shot, sir."

"One's enough. Wait for it to kick in."

_Then fuck the universe. Fuck the heavens. Fuck the saints and the angels, and fuck all the devils in hell. Everyone who stood back and watched. And did nothing._

"There we go. It's coming down."

_And fuck you, Sasuke Uchiha. I will not give up until I've fucked you._

"Okay. Heart rate's almost back to normal. Finish up before infection sets in."

_Just like you...fucked...me.._


	9. Sasori

**Chapter 9: Sasori**

* * *

Sakura awoke in darkness. She was so weak that she struggled just to keep her eyes open. She could see nothing. All she could feel were the sharp pains of her wounds, the lumpy mattress under her naked body, and the annoying ache of the intravenous line in her arm.

A light came on. The pain of it made her shut her eyes. When she felt something tug on the IV line, she forced one eye to open. It was Kabuto, who was replacing the empty bag of clear solution with a full one.

"Still alive?" he said with a disinterested voice.

Through dry lips, she tried to ask about Sasuke. All that came out was "Sasss..."

Kabuto pulled a syringe from his medical kit and inspected it. When he saw dried blood on the needle, he licked his finger to wet it and then used it to wipe the stains away. "You should forget about him. The master will claim him soon."

She felt a little better when the fluids started entering her body. "W-Why are..."

"Quiet. Hold still. I need to draw some blood."

She felt his needle dig into her skin and watched as the bottom of the syringe filled with blood. He removed it and, to her horror, squirted a bit of her blood onto his tongue. He grimaced and spat it out.

"Still anemic. I'll make you another unit of whole blood."

He inserted the needle into the IV bag and injected her blood into it. Then he began performing a series of hand signs. Sakura watched his motions very carefully. After he completed the last seal, the liquid in the bag turned dark red.

He glanced at her. "I'm not wasting fresh blood on someone like you. If cloned blood isn't good enough, then too bad."

"Why am I here?"

He wiped the syringe with a dirty rag and tossed it into his medical kit. "I asked the master if I could have your corpse."

Her head felt as heavy as her eyelids. "So why are you keeping me alive?"

He gave her an evil look. "None of your fucking business. Whore." Then he began probing the spot where Sasuke's blade ran her through. The wound looked terrible, but his finger only increased the pain slightly. She let herself relax a little, knowing that if the wound was infected, the pain would have been a lot worse.

When he finished poking at her wounds, he rose and walked to the door. "I'll keep you here until I need you. That's all you need to know."

He snapped off the light and closed the door behind him, leaving her in darkness once more.

* * *

After Kabuto removed the IV line the next day, she spent three weeks alone in the dark room. Since there was no sunlight, her only way to count the passing days were the anonymous hands that slid her meals under the door and grabbed the tin plate from the day before.

She did not stay idle. She spent her time exercising as best she could until the pain of her wounds became too much to bear. Then she laid her suffering body on the mattress. As she did, she manipulated the flow of chakra inside her body to practice her techniqies, perfect her skills, and sharpen her responses. And then, when her chakra was almost spent, she stared up at the ceiling and visualized her fight with Sasuke, analyzing each moment of their battle.

But as the days grew into weeks, she knew that it didn't matter how she jumbled the pieces. In the end, the puzzle would always come out the same. No matter how well she fought, she could never hope to defeat his Sharingan.

_Unless I use more of my dark chakra. A lot more. But if I do that, then..._

She remembered the tavern, and how she was barely able to keep the dark chakra under control. She knew that if she kept using it, her resistance to it would eventually fail.

_And then I really will become a monster. Just like Sasuke. And Zabuza._

She imagined what it would have been like to have accepted Zabuza's ring. To have lived with him in the Mizukage's palace, commanding an army of ninjas, all living and dying at their whims.

Two murderers, making a home together. Two whores, creating a family.

But then she pictured herself on the balcony of the palace, waving to their loyal subjects. She could see that their smiles were just as forced as her own. She imagined the hate, burning in her gut. Her lust for Sasuke's blood, crowding out every other emotion.

And then she saw herself walking into their bedroom. Seeing their child, kneeling on the bed, naked, while Zabuza-

She slammed her fist against the wall.

"A monster _cannot _love," she said to the darkness. The darkness did not respond. Nor did it have to. She already knew that when she spoke of monsters, she included herself.

* * *

One day, many hours after the day's meal had arrived, she was surprised when the door swung open. She threw her hands in front of her eyes to block out the painful light.

"Who is it?"

She heard Kabuto's voice, speaking to her in a hoarse whisper. "Put this on."

He handed her a tattered robe and a pair of worn sandals. She couldn't see the robe but she could certainly smell it. "It stinks like shit."

"So do you. Quiet. Say another word and I'll kill you."

He led her through the halls. It took her several minutes to become accustomed to the light. Everything was quiet and she saw no one else. She assumed that it was after the normal working hours, if anything about this place could be described as normal.

Kabuto looked nervous. Each time they came to a corner, he stopped and peered around it before continuing on. When they came to the chamber where the guards had blocked her way, he opened the door slowly and scanned the room before motioning her inside. All of the guards were gone.

They flew up the limestone steps. A minute later, she stood on soft ground, looking up through the trees at the stars in the night sky, and inhaling the warm midsummer air.

Kabuto reached behind a tree and grabbed a pack. He threw it to her. In a whisper, he said, "Carry that."

The pack was heavier than she had expected. She was surprised to see the handle of her broken sword extending from the top. When she opened her mouth to ask about it, Kabuto held up his hand and whispered to her. "Don't get any ideas. And stay quiet. I'm taking you to see somebody. Somebody you'll definitely want to stay close to."

"Sasuke?" she whispered. "Orochimaru?"

When he said nothing, she looked about her, trying to identify the best escape route. "Who then?"

He put his finger to his lips and motioned for her to follow him. "Itachi Uchiha," he said.

Her shoulders dropped. Then her eyes narrowed. "Okay," she said. "I'll come with you." _Because wherever Itachi is, that's the one place in the universe where Sasuke's guaranteed to show up._

She put the pack on her back and sighed. The last time she followed Kabuto, he led her into a trap. _But Orochumaru was right. What else can a starving rat choose?._

* * *

They moved westward, toward the mountains of the Land of Earth. The only times when Kabuto spoke were to silence her attempts to ask questions.

As they traveled, he often stopped and looked behind him, as if expecting to see someone following them. Sakura also kept her eyes open. If they were spotted by the ANBU of the Leaf Village, she would have to rely on a broken blade and her captor's dubious sense of chivalry.

The next afternoon, when the sun slipped behind the mountains, they made camp near the bank of the Amé River. She started to build a fire but Kabuto stopped her. "It would give away our position," he told her.

He dug a bar of soap from the pack and told her to bathe in the river. "And stay where I can see you."

She frowned, but when she shrugged off her robe and slipped out of her sandals, he took no notice of the naked girl in front of him. It wasn't until she stepped out of the river that he finally took an interest in her body.

She heard him whistle and snap his fingers, as though calling a dog. When she stood beside him, she felt his fingers probe the spot where Sasuke had run her through with his sword. She smiled slightly when he couldn't find any scars.

He leaning in for a cloer look. Finally, with his face so close that his nose nearly touched her belly, he spotted a thin line where the grain of her skin didn't quite match up. Then he looked up at her with an angry scowl. "Who the hell worked on this? My medical ninjas were ordered to stay away."

She stopped suppressing her grin. "I did it myself."

When his scowl grew deeper, she said, "You were the one who exposed your jutsu. When you showed that girl." Her grin widened. "And then you gave me three weeks with nothing else to do but to master it." She nodded her head. "Thank you for that."

The look on his face could have curdled fresh milk. "Get dressed. Whore."

When she reached for the tattered, stinking robe, he pointed at her pack. "In _that_. I want you to be presentable tomorrow."

Inside was her white kimono. She held it up, amazed by how spotlessly clean it was. Then she found the spot where she was stabbed. She could barely see the line where the cut had been stiched together.

Then she picked up her sword. All that was left was the handle, the hilt, and a few inches of jagged metal. She turned to Kabuto. "Why did you let me keep this?" Then she looked out at the river. "Because you wanted to make it seem like I escaped?"

Kabuto reached into his own pack and pulled out a can of beans. He tossed it to her and then pointed his thumb at her broken sword. "I hope you can use that piece of shit as a can opener. About all it's good for." Then he pulled bread, cheese, and dried meat from his pack and set them in his lap.

He took a few bites of the meat, and then he nodded to her can. "Better eat, whore. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

* * *

In the morning, he led her downstream. Around noon, they reached a wooden bridge that stretched across the Amé river. "This is known as the Bridge of Tears. Through all the wars, it's been taken and retaken, burned down and built back up dozens of times. " He pointed to the other side. "South of there, the Land of Earth ends and the Land of Rain begins."

"Where does the river go?"

"South. Further down, it passes through the Land of Rain and then the Land of Rivers and then to the sea. Don't get any ideas. You wouldn't live to see the end of that journey."

"Why?"

"Because it also passes through the Hidden Rain Village."

"And Hanzo," she said. Every Leaf Ninja, from the lowest genin to the highest jounin, knew better than to face Hanzo the Salamander on his own turf. The three legendary San-nin earned their titles from Hanzo himself - by being the only ones who could fight him to a standstill.

"No. Hanzo's dead. If anything, the guys running the Rain Village now are worse than him. We are meeting two of them today. They'll take you to Itachi." He smiled and pointed again. "And there they are. Come on."

At the end of the bridge were two figures, dressed in black cloaks with red clouds printed on them. The taller one was young and thin and sported a head full of bright yellow hair that shot up and cascaded down like a fountain. At first she thought the blond was a woman but as they approached, she could see that he moved more like a man.

The other figure was short and round, and wore a hat that covered its face. It was hunched over and moved oddly, like it was pulling itself along rather than walking. It _was _walking, Sakura knew, since she could feel the vibrations of each heavy footstep through her feet.

When the four of them met at the center of the bridge, Kabuto bowed deeply. "Welcome, my master."

She whispered to Kabuto. "I thought Orochimaru was your master."

He shot her a look that dripped with pure hatred. "Stay quiet, whore. Or I'll kill you myself."

The short one took the lead. When he spoke, his voice was low and rumbly, like a bear's would sound like, if one could talk. Beneath that, Sakura could also hear a streak of pure malevolence in that voice, one even stronger than the one in Zabuza's.

"Still my loyal servant? My spell is still in place?"

Kabuto had a dreamy look in his eyes. "Yes, my master."

The tall one clicked his tongue and crossed his arms. His voice reminded Sakura of a bored, whiney adolescent. "Doesn't look like much of a spy. Sure we can trust him?"

The short one said, "All my spies are trustworthy once I've re-activated the seal. You don't need to worry. So, Kabuto-kun, how's old Snake-face?"

"He's gathering his forces, Master Sasori. Once he's gotten the Sharigan eye, he'll strike."

The tall one spit over the side of the bridge. "Fat lot of good that'll do him. Not with our power. With one hand, we could-"

"You talk too much, Deidara. Tipping your hand is never a good strategy. If you were a little older, I wouldn't have to explain that to you."

Deidara huffed and said no more.

Sasori turned back to his servant. "What have you got for me this time?"

Kabuto reached over and slapped the pack on Sakura's back. "In here is a packet with Orochimaru's latest plans."

Sakura's brow furrowed. _Asshole! Is that all you needed me for? To be your packmule?_

Kabuto grabbed the handle of the broken blade and pulled, twisting her body to the side. "And this is a present for Master Kisame. It's the remnants of one of the Seven Swords of the Hidden Mist."

Sasori gave an evil chuckle. "I hope you weren't the one who broke that. The next thing Kisame will want is your head."

Kabuto pushed Sakura forward. "She's the one. I'll give you _her _head instead."

Sakura shot Kabuto an evil glance. _Bastard! This was your plan? To sell me out, like a slave?_

Kabuto continued. "Although she's really a present for Master Itachi. She tried to take Sasuke's life. And Master Itachi said that he wanted to talk with anyone who tried that and lived."

Diedara looked her up and down. "_Talk? _Shit. By the time he's done _talking _with her, there won't be anything left for us." He shook his head. "Waste of good pussy."

She crossed her arms. _Figures. Another trap._

* * *

The two men escorted Sakura through the Land of Rain, following the Amé River. While they walked, Sasori and Deidara bickered about the nature of art. Sasori maintained that art was immutable and eternal, while Deidara screamed that art existed purely in the moment, that it "exploded" into being, and then disappeared. She was grateful that she wasn't dragged into their discussion.

Later, as the sun slipped over the horizon and the blue sky slowly darkened, they arrived at a dock, where a large riverboat was waiting. They boarded and entered one of the cabins below as the crew began to cast off. From the look of it, she guessed that they were they only passengers.

There were two beds. Sasori pointed to the one on the left. "That's yours, girl. I don't need one." He then reached under his robes, pulled out a finely-tooled leather bag, and set it on the table.

Deidara pointed to the bed on the right. "How about this one? You could give it a try for a couple of hours."

"Couple of minutes, more like," said Sasori as he pulled tools from his bag. "And keep it down. I'm trying to do some work."

She clasped her hands in front of her chest and nervously eyed the bed. "What do you mean?"

Deidara grinned and rubbed his crotch. "What do you think I mean? I'm going to put it in you, bitch. I'm going to fuck you."

She backed away from him. "You can't! I-I-I..." She looked down at her feet. "I've...got someone. That I'm serious about. I need to...to save myself for him, and-"

"Stupid bitch." Deidara threw off his cloak and grabbed the bulge in his pants. "By this time tomorrow, you're not even going to be _alive_. You know what Itachi does to his victims, don't you? He goes into their minds, you see, and then he-"

Sasori pounded his fist on the table. "I told you about talking too much! I'm getting tired of warning you. And you better watch out for that girl. We're not the only ones who hide our power."

"Shit. The only thing this little bitch is hiding is the color of her panties." He ran his hand over her buttocks. "You're not even wearing any panties, are you?"

She hid her face in her hands. "Please. I'll do anything you ask. Just don't do things to my..._down there_."

He pulled her hands away and slapped her. "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do. Stupid little bitch. I'm a student of the Third Tsuchikage himself. His _greatest _student. You should be grateful that I'm allowing you be in the same room as me. To share my bed." He pushed down on her shoulders. "Get down. On your knees. Show me how grateful you are."

"No. Please. I don't want-"

"On your knees, cunt. Now!"

Sasori, who was carving a piece of wood, banged the handle of his knife on the table. "Keep it quiet."

He huffed. "Compared to the screaming she's going to do in a couple of minutes, this _is_ quiet."

As she kneeled, he lowered his trousers. He grabbed her by the back of her head. "Make it wet. It'll hurt less that way."

Her frightened eyes were locked on the head of his erect penis. "I-I've never-"

"Just put it in your mouth. Suck it. Like a fucking candy cane."

He grabbed his penis and began to rub it against her reddening cheeks and her pursed lips. The more she shuddered, the harder he became.

"Do it. Put it in your mouth."

She closed her eyes tightly. Tears ran down her cheeks. She timidly reached up and held his erection between her quivering fingertips.

"Please don't look at me. I can't do..._that_...if you're going to look at me."

He clicked his tongue. "Alright, alright. I won't peek." He turned his head. "And do my balls too, bitch."

She made a fist and focused her chakra in it. "Don't worry. I'll get them."

When she slammed her fist into his testicles, he doubled over and fell to the floor. He laid on the floor, guarding his crotch with both hands as he silently convulsed.

Sasori, on the other hand, slapped his thigh as he almost choked himself with laughter. It took him more a minute before he could speak. "Got you, you stupid fuck. She played you like the fool you are. All she had to do was to hold the trap open and watch you stick your foot right in it. Oh, man. I haven't had this much fun since the night I killed the Third Kazekage."

By this time Deidara had recovered enough to roll over and slowly raise his trousers. Sakura took notice of the hardness of his erection and of the milky white puddle he left on the rough wooden floorboards.

"See, Deidara? That's what I'm talking about. The best things in life are those that _endure_. These days, a kunoichi only seems to be able to kill with her kunai, not her cunt." He tipped his hat to her. "Nice to see a lady who still upholds the old-fashioned values."

Deidara struggled to get to his feet. His voice trembled as much as his body. "How dare you. Don't you know...what you're...dealing with?" A kunai flashed in his hand. He raised it and leapt toward her. He stopped when his kunai froze in place and wouldn't budge. When he let go of it, it briefly hung in the air and then fell to the ground.

Sasori nodded his head towards the door. "Pick it up. Get out. I like her. She's an evil cunt, just like my dear old granny. And besides, if you kill her now, then who's going to explain that to Itachi? You?"

He grabbed his kunai and limped outside, slamming the door after him.

Sasori continued to carve. "Get a good look, girl? At my jutsu? That's what this game was about, wasn't it? Testing our power? Probing us for weaknesses you can exploit?"

She took a breath and exhaled it. "I didn't even see your fingers move."

He gestured to the other chair. "Then have a seat. I'll show it to you. A little present for entertaining me."

When she sat down, he gave her a wooden dowel that was as long as her middle finger. "Use your chakra to make that stick to your finger." He watched her press her finger to the dowel and lift it up. "Pretty simple, huh? I'll bet your sensei taught you that when you were a fresh-faced little genin." He watched the stick fall. "Now, now. You've got to be in control of your emotions to make the magic happen. Try it again, but this time, do it at a distance. Hold your finger just above the dowel. Yes, like that. Now, move your finger back and forth and see if the dowel will follow it. Good. Keep working on that."

He resumed his carving. "It was my grandma who taught me the Art of the Puppet Master. It was just after my parents were killed. I guess she thought that she was doing me a favor by not telling me about that. That's the worst, isn't it? When the people you trust lie to you?"

She lost control of the stick again. She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. "Yes."

When he saw her resume her practice, he started talking again. "So, how did you get yourself into this mess? Looking for revenge and bit off a little more than you could chew?"

The dowel jumped a little but she kept it moving back and forth.

He sighted along the piece of wood, assessing its shape. "I used to want revenge. To get the guy who killed my parents. Make him suffer, just like I was suffering."

"What happened?"

He reached over and pointed at the end of her dowel. "Okay. This time, try lifting it up so that it stands on end. It's tricky to control your chakra like that. Too little and it falls. Too much and you'll make it jump up and then fall over. Yes, just like that. Keep trying."

He started carving again, this time shaving off thin ribbons of wood. "The guy killed himself. Never got the chance to repay him for his contribution to my childhood development. There's been others, though. People who overstepped their boundaries. Who thought it might be fun to fuck with a young man with no parents. They paid. They all paid."

She almost got her dowel to stand. Then she applied too much chakra. The stick jumped and clattered to the table again. She closed her eyes for a moment. "Did it help?"

"You mean, did it make me feel any better? In a way, I guess. You go from somebody who wants to perform a task to someone who has performed it, and there's a certain sense of relief in that. A bit of "closure" as they call it nowadays. But nothing fills in the empty space. Here."

She saw him tap on his chest. To her surprise, his chest sounded hollow, like he was wearing some type of special armor.

"The only thing that helps is the one thing you can't get. You need to get back what was taken from you."

She smiled. "I did it. I made it stand up."

"Good job. You're a quick learner. Now try it again, but this time do it at a greater distance. A little more than that. Yeah, that's good. See, it's harder. Takes more control."

This time, he picked up the sandpaper and began to smooth the rough edges left by his knife. "Of course, you can never get it back. You can't undo the past. I even went so far as to carve puppets that looked like my parents. To get them back, you know? But it's just another lie. One I told myself and could never bring myself to truly believe."

"Hey! I did it!"

"Excellent. You seem to have a real talent for this. Let's try something a little more difficult." He grabbed a string and another dowel and tied the two rods together near one end. Then he carefully stood them up. "Pretend that this is a pair of legs, joined at the hip. Use two fingers to move them, like you're making them walk."

"Like...this? Shit!"

He chuckled. "Keep trying. You'll get it."

He started sanding again. "You can only take that for so long. That empty feeling. You want to fill it back up with something. Anything. Usually, you fill it with the lust for revenge. It starts feeling a little better. You're _doing _something. Then, when you get that revenge, you're empty again. Back to square one. But that's a good thing."

"How is that good?" The dowels fell again. "Damn! This is hard."

"Of course it is. Wouldn't be an 'Art' if it wasn't. If any idiot could do this, we'd call it the 'Science' of the Puppet Master."

He fitted his piece of wood to its adjoining piece and looked for the places where they wouldn't fit together properly. "The quest for revenge makes you strong. You start to crave power, because that's what gets you the vengeance you need." He glanced at her for a moment. "I can see in your eyes that your know exactly what I'm talking about. That desire for blood makes us try harder, suffer more, go to any length. In a very real sense, the lust for revenge is the engine that drives the shinobi world."

He watched the dowels topple yet again. "You're too worked up. Relax. Control yourself."

She stared at the dowels and breathed deeply. "I'll try."

He moved his fingers. "Let me give this a try." The dowels stood upright. "Let's say there's two peasants, Peasant A and Peasant B." He shifted one finger and the dowel on the right moved forward. "Peasant A performs a forcible act of sexual intercourse on Peasant B's wife." He shifted again and the left leg moved forward. "Peasant B doesn't care for that sort of thing, so he takes an agricultural tool and removes Peasant A's ability to perform that particular behavior. Action and reaction. Trespass and revenge. As that Zabuza kid might say, it's fucking, then being fucked."

The right leg moved forward. "Peasant A's family finds this situation intolerable, so they hire a squad of ninjas to get their revenge." The left leg moved. "Peasant B's family does the same." Right leg. "The squads fight. Someone gets killed." Left leg. "The aggrieved vow revenge." Right leg. "The strong prevail and the weak perish. Survival of the fittest." The dowels kept going, walking in a circle around the table. "And so it goes, on and on, never stopping. It makes the shinobi world strong and it keeps it strong."

The legs stopped in front of her. She looked down at them, then over at Sasori. "Is that what's driving you? Revenge?"

"No. After you've become strong and you've gotten your vengeance, you see that it's an empty victory, and you abandon that path. You start to desiring power for its own sake. You see that it's the only thing worth fighting for in this rotten world."

"At the cost of your own humanity."

"Humanity is overrated. A liability. A burden. Abandon it." Sasori pulled away the cloth that covered his face. Underneath, she saw that he was just a puppet himself, all gears and pulleys and wires, covered by his leathery skin.

He leaned in. "If you want a vision of humanity as it truly is, then imagine this: an endless string of men, each one raping the one in front of him and being sodomized by the one behind, going on forever and ever. An unbreakable chain of pain and rage, of suffering and sodomy, of rape and revenge. Of fucking and being fucked, if you prefer."

He gestured to the two dowels. "Care to continue the lesson?"

She stared at them with a sad, drained expression. "No. I think I've learned enough for one night. I'm going to lay down for a while."

He watched her slump onto the mattress. "Don't get me wrong, girl. I used to believe in all that stuff, too. But I've seen too much to go back. And so have you. The truth is, the only place this 'humanity' you're searching for exists is in the heart of a child."

For a long while, Sasori started at her empty seat. Then he put the cloth across his face, tied it in place, and resumed his work.

That night, she did not sleep. She stared at the dark ceiling of the cabin and tried to piece together the last three years of her life. She hated Sasuke and wanted desperately to see him suffer and die, yet she couldn't get Naruto's words out of her head. She wanted to live in the world she had been brought up to believe in, but she couldn't reconcile that with the world she saw all around her every day. As much as she loved the dream that the Shinobi world could be more than fucking and being fucked, she knew that Sasori's vision of the endless chain of rape and revenge would always win out.

She managed a weak smile. _I always wondered what would happen if I let myself float downstream. To let the universe take me where it willed. Guess I'll find out soon enough._

In the morning, she could see a thin sliver of grey light peeking at her from below the door. She could also hear the dim patter of raindrops falling against the hull. She yawned and stared up at the ceiling as the irreconcilable pieces of her life paraded before her eyes.

Suddenly, she sat up, her eyes wide. She looked over at Sasori, still at the table, working on his puppets. "I've...I've got it! The answer."

"To what?"

"To everything! It's-"

The ship shook and then shook again. Deidara awoke and sat up. "We're here already?"

Sasori began putting away his tools. "That's nice, girl, but you're a little too late. We've arrived. At the last place on earth you want to be."

She jumped out of bed, threw open the door, and stepped out onto the wet deck. She was amazed as she stood in the pouring rain and gawked at the city sprawling out before her. Unless her schoolbooks at the Academy were wrong, she was the first person from Konoha to lay eyes on the Hidden Rain Village in more than a decade.

She sighed and reached for her pack_. Not counting Itachi, of course._


	10. Itachi

**Chapter 10: Itachi**

* * *

The Village Hidden in the Rain lived up to its name. To Sakura, the downpour from the grey skies seemed to be a permanent feature of the sprawling maze of streets and waterways.

As she was led to the tallest building in the village, she expected to see a downtrodden people, weary from decades of war and hardship and famine. If anything, the careworn faces of the people in the market seemed happy and content, even hopeful. Shops kept their neon signs lit even in the daytime, creating pools of bright color that warded off the oppressive grey. Snatches of song and peals of laughter burst through the steady patter of raindrops. Even the battle-hardened shinobi of the Hidden Rain managed a few smiles despite the gloom.

And everywhere was the angel. Hanging in every window of every shop and apartment were the simple figures of origami angels, each neatly folded from white paper. All of them, even those that hung out in the open, were crisp and dry, as though the rain was forbidden to touch them, not even with a single drop.

No one searched her at the building's entrance, or bothered to take what was left of her weapon. She knew they didn't consider someone like her to be a threat.

Sasori and Deidara led her down into the bowels of the building. The walls and columns were encrusted with pipes and ductwork, crawling like vines in some industrialized jungle.

At last, they arrived at a door in the lowest sub-basement. A yellow-and-black sign with fading letters that read "Caution: High Voltage - Extreme Shock Hazard" hung crookedly on the front. Deidara stepped forward to knock but Sakura's knuckles arrived before his.

He sneered at her. "Cocky, aren't you, you little bitch? Are you that ready to die?"

She held up her fist and watched his eyes widen as they focused on it. Instinctively, his hand moved to cover his genitals.

Sasori moaned. "A shinobi is measured by two things: how he lives his life and how he faces his death. I'd say this little girl measures up quite well. Don't you agree?"

Before Deidara could answer, they heard a voice inside utter a single word: "Come."

Sakura reached forward and turned the knob.

"I guess this is the last time we'll see you," said Sasori. "Truly a pity."

Inside was a chamber that may have once served as an electrical control room. Frayed wires dangled from the broken ends of metal conduits. Fluorescent lights hummed and flickered above her. A drain in the center of the concrete floor was surrounded by dark, reddish stains that she hoped were only from rust. On the left side of the chamber was a simple bed. And on the right side, hidden behind by the partially open door, was a table with two metal chairs.

In one of those chairs sat the figure of a man, whose lined face was framed by long, black hair. His eyes were dark grey, like Sasuke's. And, like Sasuke, those eyes were dark and cruel, lacking any hint of humanity.

_Itachi Uchiha._

He stood up. "Come in. Close the door. I need to ask you a few questions. About my brother, Sasuke."

Once inside, she faced him. "I'll tell you anything you want to know about him."

He looked into her eyes. "Yes. I know you will."

She had seen the Sharingan Eye before, but not like this. His eyes were just as red but the pattern on the iris was different. Unlike Kakashi and Sasuke, Itachi's eyes had three curved black wings that extended to the edge of his pupils, almost like a three-pointed manji.

She was entranced by them, particularly by the one on his right. She couldn't help but to stare at that pattern of red and black. As she did, it seemed like the whole world was being swallowed up inside it.

"Look around," he said as he stared down at her. She had somehow been strapped down on a stone slab, naked, her arms and legs splayed open. She raised her head and looked around as best she could. They were in some alien landscape, with everything painted in shades of red and black.

"Is this a genjutsu?"

"It is called Tsukuyomi. An advanced trait of the Sharingan eye, available only to a rare few. What you are experiencing right now is not a simple illusion. It is an alternate reality, where I control all of space and time."

She looked up at the blood-red moon in the starless black sky. "But you don't control _me_, right? Otherwise, why would you need to tie me down?"

"Correct. I cannot control your actions. But I can control the environment you are subjected to. I can make painful things happen to you. Terrible things. And even if you die, I can resurrect you and submit you to it all over again, as many times as I wish. If I require, I can compress a thousand years of torture into the blink of an eye."

She smiled. "Okay. You've convinced me. I'll talk."

His cold eyes stared into hers. "I don't want you to talk. I want you to scream. I want to tear you apart. I want to go inside you. See what's in your heart. And your soul. That's where my answers reside."

He laid on top of her and slowly, teasingly put his hot, wet mouth on her breast. Then she felt his hand slide up her leg and began to play with her. If she had any doubts that this might be an illusion, those were dispelled by the pleasure that spread through her body and made her limbs strain against their bonds.

His touch was soft and feathery. His fingers danced around her clit, teasing it. The frustration made her gyrate her hips, hoping that he would lose patience with his game and grant her a quick release.

But he didn't. He continued to torment her with light touches. As her climax glacially grew nearer, he started giving her clit tiny flicks with his thumb.

_If I have to suffer a thousand years of this... _She looked down at his face, so much like Sasuke's. The coldness of his eyes only seemed to make him even more attractive. She smiled.. _Well, I guess there are worse fates._

She was painfully close. Moments before, he lifted his head up and looked at her. His took his hand away. He blew cool air across her overheated nipple, and he smiled as she moaned pitifully. "Surely you don't want me as your lover. Who should have that honor? Who is it that you desire the most?"

"Perhaps me," said Kabuto. Somehow, he had turned himself into Orochimaru's little troll.

She grimaced in horror. Though she knew it wasn't him, it certainly felt like him, even smelled like him.

Then, in a flash, he was now Sasuke, his cruel face twisted with anger. He grabbed her neck and squeezed.

She tried to scream but no sound came out. She could do nothing but lay there and stare into his animalistic eyes as his teeth chattered with blind hate. After a minute, the world started to turn even blacker. She closed her eyes, unable to prevent the darkness from claiming her.

She opened her eyes. _Where am I? Where's Sasuke? _She tried to sit up but her body was still tied down. She looked to her left and saw her lifeless body laying on another stone table. Sasuke was still on top of it, grunting and tearing the flesh apart with his bare hands, as he had done in Orochimaru's cave.

To her right was Itachi. Before she could ask what happened, he spoke. "When you die here, I can always bring you back. Eventually, this whole field will be soaked in your blood. Your corpses will extend beyond the horizon. And each death will be more horrible than the last."

She yanked on her straps, no longer able to disguise her fear. "What do you want?"

"To tear you apart. To see what's inside you. To find the kernel of your existence."

He glanced at Sasuke. Then he climbed on top again, kneeling between her legs. "Seems like you and my brother have strong feelings about each other. So who is the one that you desire?"

"Me?" said a small, sweet voice. Her head shot up. It was Sasuke, barely seven years old. Still innocent. Without a care in the world.

He sat between her out-stretched legs and looked down at her naked body. "Hey, lady. You got no clothes on."

Her tears started to fall. "No."

"What's this? Why you got hair down here? And what's _this_? Looks _funny_."

"Oh God. Make him stop!"

"Feels funny too."

"Oh God! That's sick! Stop making him do that! I'll do anything. I'll tell you _anything_."

"Anything?" said Itachi, who was appeared on her left. He looked younger and he was dressed in the uniform of the Konoha ANBU. A sword was strapped across his back. "Okay, little brother. You heard the lady. Let me show you something a lot more interesting."

"Okay, Nii-san." The young Sasuke leapt into his arms.

Fear and worry stabbed her heart when she saw Itachi draw his sword. "What are you going to do?"

"Take him to his Mommy and Daddy, of course. And show him what I did to them. Just as I had done years ago."

She tried to scream, tried to warn him to look away, but no sound came out of her mouth. She could hear everything else: the swish of his sword, the fall of the bodies, the gurgling sounds his father made as he choked on his own blood. How his mother cried as she tried to hold in her intestines. The wet thud of her severed head as it fell to the polished floorboards. And, above all, Sasuke's screams, so fierce that he began choking himself on them.

She pulled, trying to free herself. All of her effort was focused on stopping that cruel sword, on ending this horror, on grabbing the little boy and holding him and telling him that everything would be alright.

"And you would be lying to him," said Itachi. He sheathed his sword and approached her, leaving the screaming boy behind. "It's not alright. It will never be alright."

He crawled on top of her again. "Which hurts worse? The truth? Or the lies?"

"What kind of a monster are you? How can you do that to a-"

"To a child?" he said, as Zabuza. He grinned. "Because I wanted to." She felt his dick, hard against her leg. "Because I had to." He pressed the tip of it against her defenseless cunt. "Because it felt so-"

"Had to? Why did you _have _to do that?"

He became Itachi again. She noticed the corner of his mouth twinge slightly. "I'll ask the questions."

She glared at him. "Why did you kill everybody but Sasuke? Why did you show him all that, when you knew it would turn him into a monster? Why-"

"Like you? Oh, you're the last person on earth I expected to hear a sermon from. If you're not the shining example of the effects of revenge on the human soul, then who is?"

She looked over at older Sasuke, still pummeling what was left of her corpse. "So why are you doing this to me? Because I tried to kill your brother?"

"I need to see what you're made of. To see what revenge has turned you into. What lies at the center of your soul. And when I have seen that, I will allow you to die."

"I don't understand."

"You don't need to." He smiled slightly. "So, who do you desire?" He transformed again.

"Maybe it's me you want," said Naruto, grinning. "I've always kind of dug you, too." He was naked and she could see his broad shoulders and the muscles of his chest. His face, surprisingly handsome. His eyes, as blue as the sky, staring into hers.

"Yeah, I think it's me. I can feel it. Can you feel it too?"

She did feel him, hard against her thigh.

"Oh God. Don't do this. Not with him. Not like this."

"Aw, come on. I thought you liked me." He leaned in closer. "I can see all of your paranoid fantasies, Sakura-chan. All of the things you thought people were going to do to me back in the village. Naughty, naughty. And when I'm done fucking you, I'm going to make Sasuke-kun do all that stuff to me. I'll even let you watch."

"No. Please."

"I know you like all that boy-on-boy stuff."

"Oh God. If you have any feelings for me at all, Naruto, then kill me. End it now. _Please_."

"I can't do that." He leaned forward and looked into her eyes, his lips almost touching hers. "Because you're still my comrade. And I will not allow my comrades to die."

He sat bolt upright and scowled at her. "What the hell? What are you making me say?"

She stared back. "What do you mean? I thought you controlled everything here."

His eyes had a confused look. "I do. Of course I do. I just-"

"Except me. You can't control me. And the only way you can tap into my fears is to go into my mind. And that means that a part of me is inside you as well. Affecting you. Making you-"

"Bullshit!" Itachi leapt off of her. "That's impossible. The Mangekyo Sharingan cannot possibly be affected by someone as weak as you."

He waved his hand. "Enough of this. Let's descend to the next level."

She found herself standing in the bright sunshine, on Tazuna's bridge, dressed in her old uniform. In front of her was Haku. She whirled around. Behind her was Sasuke, running for her.

"Get out of my way!" he yelled. In slow motion, his foot slammed into her side and she was knocked into the air, pinwheeling slowly. She stopped. Everything stopped. Except Itachi.

"This is it. Isn't it? It wasn't the moment when he kicked you. It was the moment you saw him turn away. That's when you realized that everything you had believed in was a lie. That's the seed of your revenge."

"Why are you doing this?"

"To see what has issued from that seed. Let's continue."

He waved his hand again. They were standing in Orochimaru's cave. In the dark corner, she saw Sasuke's Sharingan eyes.

"This is who you desire. You have spent the last three years searching for him. To kill him. And even though you failed miserably, you still seek your vengeance, knowing he will defeat you, knowing you will die in the attempt. Is this what revenge has made you? A mindless monster? A slave to your bloodlust, concerned only with-"

"No!" she said. Her outburst surprised them both. "I mean, yes. I am a monster. Just like him. I know that now. But I don't want to kill him. Not anymore."

Itachi tilted his head. "Then why did you come here? Do you no longer desire his death?"

She shook her head as she stared at the red eyes in the darkness. "Oh God, do I desire that. Every waking moment, and even in my dreams, I desire that. To hurt him. To make him suffer. To-" She had to take a breath to calm herself. "To kill him."

Then she turned to face Itachi. "But that's not what I _want_ anymore, I want something else. Something more. Something...better than that."

He stared at her for a long moment. "Then tell me. If you actually had the strength to defeat him, then what would you do, if not exact your retribution?"

She stared at the red eyes a little longer before answering. "If I can defeat him - I mean, _when_ I defeat him - I will indeed get my retribution. I'm going to make him give it all back. Everything he took from me."

Itachi's nostrils flared. "What do you mean? What are you planning?""

She glanced at Itachi and then turned away from him. She smiled. "I'm not going to tell you."

He swept his hand again and they were in the Uchiha Compound. Torn bodies filled the streets. A little boy appeared, crying as he ran. It was Sasuke.

Itachi pointed to him. "What would you tell that boy, if you had the chance?"

The dark chakra, which had grown inside her as she stared at the red eyes, diminished when she watched the sobbing boy. "That everything's going to be alright."

"And you would be lying to him. You know that. After all the lies you've been told, you'd still-"

She balled her hands into fists. "It wouldn't be a lie. I would protect him. I would make it the truth."

Then they appeared in Orochimaru's chamber, watching as Sasuke savagely tore apart her shadow clones.

Itachi pointed to his brother. "And what would you tell _him_? That same boy, grown up. What protection and truth can you offer _him_?" He looked into her eyes. "Especially when your hate is so strong?""

She stared at Sasuke. For a long time, she examined the rage that contorted his face. She could feel the dark chakra rise within her again, spreading through her body like a black poison. Her hands clenched as her body ached with lust.

Then she pictured the little boy that Sasuke once was. Her back straightened. She felt the dark tide recede. "You are right. He has grown up. He doesn't need my protection. And he must find his own truth, just as I have." She crossed her arms. "And Zabuza was right, too. He's the kind that will fuck and will never submit to being fucked. And until he does, he'll never find that truth. He needs someone to _educate_ him-" She flashed an evil grin. "-just as I have been educated."

Itachi put his face in hers. "And why would you do that for him? For a man you hate more than anyone else? For the monster that revenge has created?"

"The monster _you _created, Itachi. You made him what he is. You turned him into that. And for what? To make him strong? Strong enough for what?"

Itachi's eyes darted around the room, as if searching for eavesdroppers. "I will not answer that. Suffice it to say, there are powerful forces at work in this world. Worse than anything you've yet seen."

"And that's why? To make him strong enough to defeat this...whoever-it-is? But he's your brother. How could you do that to your own-"

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Suddenly, her jaw dropped. "Oh my God. Now I understand why you're asking these questions."

"You understand nothing. Someone like you could never-"

"You're not looking for a way to-"

"Enough! You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

"You're trying to find a way to _save _him. After he's gotten his revenge."

He said nothing, content only to glare at her..

He waved his hand again. "Very well. Time to jump to the last act of this story. We're going all the way down to the center of your mind. Down into the things you don't want anyone to see."

They stood in a room that was lined with many steel doors. The one in front of them had an enormous lock, like a bank vault.

He pointed to it. "Your plan for Sasuke is in here. Mind if I take a peek?"

She put her hands on her hips and held her head high. "If you can open that door, then go ahead. Let me know what you think of it."

Itachi waved his hand and the lock spun. When it stopped, the door opened. He stepped forward and peered inside.

A few moments later, he stepped back. "What... What is this?"

"What does it look like?"

His mouth hung open as he stared through the portal. "How... How could you even _conceive_ of something like this? It's...not possible. How could you accept such a karma? It's..."

"It's the only way to get my retribution. To get it all back from him. Everything he stole."

"But that's..." His eyes locked onto hers. Tears ran down his face. "Who the hell are you? _What _are you?

She stood erect. "I'm a shinobi. A real shinobi. The kind I'd stopped believing in."

She felt something warm on her shoulder. She turned to see that it was Naruto, putting his hand on her shoulder. Behind him stood Kakashi, and behind him, the Fourth Hokage, and behind them was an army of shinobi, all wearing headbands with the symbol of Konoha..

Itachi fell to his knees. "No! You can't show that to me. You can't."

He fell forward, onto the hard ground. "Stop! You don't know how painful that image is to me. How much I've sacrificed for that. Stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything. This is your reality, remember?"

"Are you coming home to us, Sakura-chan?" said Naruto.

She took his hand and turned to face him. "Maybe. If you'll have me. Before that can happen, there's a lot I have to do."

"Promise me, Sakura-chan. No matter what he's done, he's still our comrade."

"I'll...do what I can." Then she dropped her shoulders. "Okay, Naruto. You win." She sighed. "I'm not exactly sure about how I'm going to pull this off, but I promise you, I won't kill him."

He and the others began to fade. "I think our time's up. Goodbye, Sakura-chan."

She released his hand. The scene disappeared. She was standing in the electrical control room again. "Until we meet again, Naruto-kun."

Just as she was about to speak, the door opened. A man in dark clothes entered. He was wearing a orange mask, one with a spiral pattern that converged over the hole for his right eye. There was no hole for the left eye.

"Is this her?" the man asked in a weird, high-pitched, sing-song voice. "The one you were going to do your Fukki-sukki technique on? Leader-sama sent me to pick up her corpse."

Itachi, still prostrated on the concrete floor, started to rise. "Tsukuyomi."

"Ah, yes. The Sukki-yummi technique. Sorry." He pointed to Sakura. "Tobi's a little confused, Itachi-sama. I thought the technique was supposed to kill her, not you."

Itachi slowly picked himself up. "Get the Akatsuki together, Tobi. I have an announcement to make to them."

Tobi gave Itachi a cartoonish salute. "Right away, Itachi-sama." Then he burst through the door and ran.

Sakura peered through the open door. "Who is that guy? Should I worry about him?"

Itachi stared at her for a moment, as though he wanted to tell her something. Then he shook his head.

He looked into her eyes. "Do you seriously intend to go through with that insane plan?"

He watched her cross her arms. Her confident stance and the gleam in her eyes were all the confirmation he needed.

He sighed. "Are you ready to do _anything _to get that kind of power?"

"Yes. Anything."

He nodded to the door. "Then let's go. I shall put your resolve to the test."

* * *

When they arrived in the main hall, Sakura saw six figures, all dressed in the black-and-red cloaks of the Akatsuki. As she looked up to a platform high above her, she saw two more: a tall man with orange hair and a dark-haired woman with sad eyes.

Itachi pointed to the platform. "Those two are the God of the Rain Village and his Angel."

"Like the paper angels outside?"

"Yes. They are able to monitor everything that takes place in this village. They probably won't participate, but the others might."

"Participate in what?"

"You said you would do anything. Then stay silent. Let me do the talking."

When they joined the others, Itachi pointed to her. "I have decided to let her live. From this day forward, she shall be my whore."

She glared at him. He cut his eyes over to her for a moment before continuing. "But do not think that I have forgotten my comrades. I will share her body with you. Her flesh shall be yours. Beat her, abuse her, fuck her, torture her. Whatever you desire."

"Anything?" A pale young man with slicked-back hair stepped forward. He was practically drooling as he surveyed her body.

"No, Hidan. You may not _kill_ her. You may bring her to within a hairs-breadth of death, but you are not allowed to kill her."

His face was contorted with rage. "Fuck! What's up with you? God's commandment is for everyone to _die_, not to _almost _die. Shit! Fucking infidels."

"So, you won't take a turn with her?"

Hidan crossed his arms. "Didn't say that. It's just that... Honestly, how can I enjoy myself if I can't watch her _die_? I mean, that's such a mood-killer."

To her left was a strange creature that looked like a man caught in a venus fly-trap. Half of his body was white and the other half was black. The white half said, "She's of no use to someone like me." Then the black half said, "Unless she dies. Then she might be quite delicious." He sank into the earth and disappeared.

"So much for Zetsu." Itachi turned to a tall man with a mask over the lower half of his face, much like Kakashi's. "How about you, Kakuzu?"

He crossed his arms. "She has a good heart. I can hear it from here. Sure. I'll find some use for her body."

Itachi then turned to the tallest man, one who had bluish skin and cruel eyes, like a shark. He had a large, oddly shaped sword on his back, wrapped in bandages. "How about you, Kisame?"

Kisame stepped forward and looked down at Sakura. "Doesn't say much, does she? At least a silent whore can't lie to you." He looked at the hilt of Sakura's blade, sticking up from her pack. "Tell me. What were Zabuza's last words? I'm dying to know."

She didn't reply.

He cocked his head. "Doesn't matter. And don't worry, little girl. I won't kill you for ruining such a cheap blade. Among the Seven Swords of the Mist, the Decapitating Blade was barely a pawn." He pointed his thumb at the sword on his back. "This sword, Samehada, is the king."

He turned to leave. "I have no need for a whore, Itachi. You know that."

Itachi turned to Sasori and Deidara. Sasori said, "I can't use her, either."

Deidara said, "What's the matter, Master Sasori? Got no dick in there?"

Sasori turned to Deidara. "What I don't have is patience for your childish outbursts. Right now, you should be thinking about the Land of Wind. The Kazekage's son won't be so easy to take down. Not alive, anyway."

"You worry too much, Sasori. You're dealing with a pro." He glared at Sakura. "And when I get back, bitch, you're going to regret it."

She held up her fist. His smile diminished as her's increased.

When everyone had gone, she asked Itachi, "Why are you doing this? What's your plan?"

He looked as though he wanted to reply but he kept silent. Suddenly, he turned. Tobi had appeared behind them.

"Do I get a turn, Itachi-sama?"

Itachi rolled his eyes and sighed. "I suppose."

Tobi started to quiver. "My goodness. I've never...uh...done this with...uh...with a real girl before. Oh my." She watched his hand raise. It came closer and closer to her breast, creeping toward her body as his breath quickened. When his hand was only millimeters away, he said, "Oh my. Oh my! I can't take it. So good. I'm gonna...gonna..._uhh!_" His body shook.

Then he straightened up. "_Arigato_, Sakura-sama. That was absolutely wonderful." He looked down at his crotch. "And a bit sticky. Excuse me."

"What now? asked Sakura. "Will you also take a turn, Master?"

"No. I have business to take care of elsewhere. Occupy any room you like and wait for them to engage your services. And if they don't, then you must approach them yourself."

"And then what?"

"Defeat them. Just as you had defeated Zabuza." He raised his eyebrows. "You understand what I'm saying, right?"

She crossed her arms. "Okay. I understand. Will I see you again?"

"Possibly." He looked into her eyes. "When I started all this, I assumed then when Sasuke was strong enough to kill me, he would return to the Leaf Village. From what you've shown me, it's obvious that he's gone too far. When I die, he will remain a monster. If that's the case, then I will have word sent that your plan may proceed."

"And what if you end up killing him?"

He turned to leave. "Then I will have no further use for you. And I will finally allow you to die."


	11. Hidan

**Chapter 11: Hidan**

* * *

Sakura claimed one of the rooms on the ground floor. It was as grey and inhospitable as everything else in this building, but it had a semi-comfortable bed that would allow her to "entertain" her new masters.

She found clean sheets in an ancient wardrobe and hurried to make the bed. Her face was a blank mask. She had suffered three long years as Zabuza's whore and submitting herself to men even worse than him made her stomach sour.

But Itachi was right. To steal their secrets, she needed to stay close to them, just as she had with Zabuza. She needed them to let down their guard. Only then could she defeat them. And when she had beaten them all, she would be finally ready for Sasuke.

As she finished arranging the sheets, she wondered about Itachi's words. "Defeat them," she said to herself, imitating her new master's cold, monotone voice. "Like you defeated Zabuza." _Why did he have that look in his eye when he said that?_

"You understand what I'm saying, right?" she whispered, still imitiating him. She huffed and shook her head. "Everything's riddles upon riddles in this madhouse."

Finished, she sat on the bed and waited for the first of them to knock on her door. In her mind, she pictured the men of the Akatsuki lining up, fighting each other to be the first to satisfy their lust. But when that night passed without any callers, and then another, she realized that Itachi was right again. If she wanted her plan to succeed, she would have to go and engage them herself.

* * *

Just before midnight on third night, Sakura crept up the stairs that lined the cavernous atrium of the building. In her white kimono, her silent motions made her seem like a ghost floating between the patches of shadow.

As she climbed, she heard the sound of a pipe organ, playing a tuneless series of chords, like the background music to some gothic horror movie. When she reached the sixth floor, she also began to hear the voices of men, chanting ominous words in a low tone.

She turned and looked up at the top floor. The orange-haired God of the Rain was staring out through windows at the never-ending downpour. For a moment, he turned and looked down at her, silently acknowledging her presence and, perhaps, reminding her that very little escaped his gaze.

She went to the third door, the one marked with a triangle inside of a circle. In the dim light, she couldn't tell if the mark was drawn in dark red paint or human blood. After her first knock went unanswered, she tried again. It was only after the third knock that she heard the sound of footsteps beyond the door. When it opened, she saw the face of Hidan, who stared at her with a confused look.

Then he remembered their meeting that afternoon when she offered her services to him. He raised his eyebrows. "You...showed up?"

She painted a smile on her face. "Of course. Did you think I'd forget?"

He opened the door wider and gestured for her to enter. "You must have absolutely no fucking idea what I'm all about." He closed the door behind her. "Or your ass wouldn't have come up here."

She spotted the source of the music. It was a large cassette player that was turned around to face the network of pipes and ductwork that covered the left side of the room. The pipes reverberated and amplified the sound, sending it through the building.

He was not an unattractive man. He wore his robe open at the top, exposing his hairless chest nearly down to his waist. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, though his smooth skin had none of the scars she expected to see in a ninja of that age. There was a manic brilliance in his dark purple eyes, and she could see in his face that he was a man with a definite purpose. She could even forgive his silvery-grey hair and dark green nail polish.

But all that that ruined by his cockiness. When he went to the cassette player, his exaggerated swagger was unnerving, like watching a drunken highwire artist staggering down a tightrope, one who was so supremely confident of his skills that he refused to have a net beneath him. She knew that either he was so inexperienced that he didn't believe he could die, or so talented that he had never once tasted defeat.

She expected him to turn the music down; instead, he turned it up. She nodded to the player. "Must keep people up at night."

He sneered. "They're used to it. What they really complain about is the screaming. The music covers it up a little."

He walked back to her. "So, you're the official whore of the Akatsuki, huh?" He shook his head. "That's gotta be the most useless fucking job on earth. Only human beings can desire sex. And every one of us left our humanity behind a long time ago."

Her eyes were drawn to a stone altar opposite from the door. It was covered with an assortment of blades, all neatly polished and arranged. Behind it was a large stone figure, which was mostly hidden in the shadows of the flickering candlelight. His spartan bed, barely big enough for himself, was to her right.

She glanced back at Hidan. "What would you like me to do?" She reached to untie her obi. "If you'd like me to get undressed, then-"

He waved his hands. "No! Please. Keep your clothes on." He jabbed his thumb at the stone statue. "Jashin-sama's kind of a prude that way."

"Then...what would you like me to-"

"Die!" he said. "I want you to fucking _die_. You and everybody else in this rotten world." He emitted a loud sigh. "But since Itachi wants to keep you alive, I guess I'll have to settle for something less."

He turned and grabbed a triple-bladed scythe from the altar. "But don't think you're off the hook. I _will _kill you. All of you. Every ninja in this fucked-up world." He slashed the air with his weapon. "And when everybody's gone and I'm the last shinobi standing, I'll fucking kill myself." He turned and slashed at the stone figure. "And then, when my spirit arrives in Hell, I'll even kill you, Jashin-sama."

He faced her again. "Isn't that what the holy men say? When you meet your god on the road, kill your god? When you meet your parents, kill your parents?"

She stared at him for a moment, wondering if his display was a cheap bid for attention, or if he really was as psychotic as he seemed. "Those, uh, aren't actual instructions. It's more of a metaphor about severing the attachments we have to-"

"Fuck metaphors!" He banged the pipes with the blunt end of his weapon, and the loud _clang _echoed throughout the building. "Fuck the world! Fuck Heaven and fuck Hell. And fuck God!" He turned and slashed at the stone figure again. "Fuck you, you motherfucking fuck!"

She squinted at the figure, trying to see its face. At first she thought that it was too deeply hidden in the shadows. Then she saw that there was no face. The neck was only a broken stub, and the shoulders were chipped and slashed, as though it had been clawed at by a tiger. Her eyes opened wider when she realized that Hidan's triple-bladed scythe would have made exactly the same kind of marks.

He looked up at the ceiling and shouted. "And fuck you too, God of the Rain. You _think _you're the god of the whole fucking shinobi world. And you're not! That's Jashin-sama!"

Saukra heard the low rumbles of thunder through the wall, as though the God of the Rain was answering his challenge.

Hidan grinned when he heard it. Then, as the last rumble faded away, his smile faded with it. He turned to face her again. "Because that's all we're good for, isn't it? We of the shinobi race. Our only purpose is to bring the gift of death to this world, just as Jashin commands. _That _is what the shinobi world is all about, isn't it? To destroy _everything_. To kill _everyone_."

He stepped toward her. "I am the purest distillation of that race. The ultimate killer-of-men. Generations of careful breeding have produced me, the anointed vessel of Jashin-sama's dark desire." He held up the scythe. "I am the Angel of Death. The motherfucking Grim Reaper himself." He came closer, until his face almost touched hers. "And if I can't make you die, I can at least get the pleasure of making you beg for your death."

She looked into his dark, brutal eyes. It was clear to her that he really believed the nonsense he was spouting. "So...what would you like me to do?"

"Just stand there," he said, grinning. "And hold out your hand."

She swallowed. And then she held out her hand.

The scythe flashed and then she felt a sharp pain. His blade was so quick and sharp that she didn't realize she was bleeding until she looked down at her palm.

He didn't look at the blood which oozed from the cut. His attention was focused on the blades of his weapon. He smiled when he saw a drop of blood on one of the points. He licked the drop and made a great show of swallowing it.

"Thank you," he said as he walked to the altar. "I'll take care of the rest."

He laid the scythe on the altar and formed a series of handsigns. Sakura watched his movements carefully. When he was finished, his skin began to turn black.

He picked up a long, thin dagger. Then her turned to her. His black face and chest had a white pattern on them, like a skeleton drawn on his body. He smiled and slashed one of his wrists.

She gasped and stepped toward him. When she did, he held up his bloody hand.

"No. Back off. I'm not killing myself." He gave out an evil laugh. "As if that was so easy." When he saw that she was inching toward him anyway, he shooed her back with his dripping fingers. "Don't touch me. My body is Jashin's true temple. I can't let it be defiled by a woman's touch." He sneered at her. "And letting a filthy _whore _touch me would send Jashin's ass through the fucking roof."

He held out his arm and turned slowly. The dripping blood formed a circle on the stone floor. Just as he finished, the blood stopped. "Damn it," he said. The deep cut on his wrist had closed and was beginning to disappear. "Waited too long. I hope there's enough, because it really sucks when I've got to cut it again."

He dipped his toe in the pool of blood that collected when he first slashed himself. Then he dragged his foot back and then used it to paint a triangle inside the circle, exactly like the symbol on the door.

He looked to the heavens and gave another evil laugh. "Now the ceremony can begin." Then he looked at Sakura. "Forgive me, Lord. I will not take her life. Not this time. But soon. Her and all the others like her. I swear."

She sighed. His exaggerated theatrics were beginning to grate on her nerves. "So when do we actually..." She shrugged. "..._do_ something?"

He held up the dagger and waited until she was looking at it. "Now," he said. And then he thrust the blade into his left shoulder.

At the same moment, a sharp pain erupted in Sakura's left shoulder. She sucked in air as she grabbed the spot. When she took her hand away, she saw that it was stained with blood.

He let out a maniacal laugh. His lips curled into an evil grin. "Now do you understand, you stupid whore? We are linked. Bound together. Everything I do to myself also happens to-"

Sakura glared at him. "_I'm_ stupid? Hurting yourself to hurt me? That's the stupidest technique on earth. How do you expect to-"

He yanked the dagger from his shoulder and laughed when she cried out. His bleeding stoppped. He smiled as he watched the wound close and then disappear. "I'm immortal. You're not. Now do you understand?"

Then he stabbed himself in the thigh where the muscle was thickest. He gave another evil laugh when Sakura cried out and fell to the floor. As he watched the red stains spread across Sakura's kimono he said, "That is what I was bred for. To reap what God has sown. To be the Angel of Death. My unique genetics, combined with Jashin-sama's dark power, grant me the immortality that allows me to-"

Sakura stopped listening to him. To hear him crow about his oh-so-unbeatable bloodline traits made him just as infuriating as Sasuke. As she watched his lips move, she felt her dark chakra begin to rise within her.

She knew that he felt it too because he stopped mid-sentence and stared at her belly. Then he scowled at her. "No. I'm not the one who's stupid. Nobody would ever volunteer for this." Then a pall came over his face and he stared into the dark shadows. In a sad, distant voice, he said, "Well, almost nobody." He paused for a moment before scowling at her again. "The only reason you came up here was to steal my jutsu. I saw how you watched my handsigns. And, I'll admit, it's just a simple version of the mind-body-transfer technique. Anybody could master it, I suppose."

He bent over and swiped the bloody ground with his palm. Then he stood up and held up his hand, showing her the black skin dripping with dark red. "But without _this_, without the contract formed between _my_ blood and _my_ god, then you're right. It would be the stupidest technique on earth. And only a stupid _whore _would try to steal it."

Sakura stood, despite her pain. Her own lips curled into an evil grin. Her eyes blazed with a dark green fire as she glared at him. "I'm getting a little tired," she said, "of hearing that word."

He stared at her belly. His eyes opened wider. "What-the-fuck kind of chakra is that?" He took a step backwards. "Or is it even chakra at all?"

Then he took another step back, out of the circle he had drawn, and his hip bumped against the altar. One of the blades fell. The sharpened tip grazed his leg and he winced.

She didn't feel the same pain in her own leg. She grinned wider. _So that's the flaw in your technique. You have to stay within the circle, don't you? That's the last mistake you're ever going to make, asshole._

She felt her body surge with her dark energy. The lust for his blood overwhelmed her. "I wonder how immortal would you be," she said, crouching slightly, "if I took your fucking head off?"

She launched her body forward, aiming her fist at the space between his collarbone and his jaw.

But that's not where it landed. Instead of avoiding her attack, he shot forward, closing the distance between them. By the time she realized it, she had rammed her fist through his sternum, crushing his heart.

Her body fell, helpless to do anything else. Her chest was wracked with pain, as though her ribcage had been smashed with a sledgehammer.

Her vision dimmed. All she could see before her was his feet, standing inside the circle. As her eyes closed, she realized that she could no longer hear the beating of her own heart.

"Fuck Itachi," she heard him say as the darkness claimed her. "And fuck you too."

* * *

When Sakura awoke, she immediately started pawing at her chest. She felt no pain, not even in her shoulder and thigh, and the fabric of her kimono was clean and fresh.

She leapt from the bed and ran to the mirror. Her outfit was as flawless as the day she had bought it. She looked down and searched for the spot where Sasuke's sword had run her through. She couldn't find it. The stitching was gone.

She unfastened her obi and examined her reflection. The myriad of tiny scars from her many battles had disappeared. "Just like the day I was born," she said to herself.

When she came back to her bed, she saw that a paper angel had been propped against the side of her pillow. She picked it up and unfolded it. Inside, she saw a message, written in a hand that was definitely feminine, but with strokes that were thin and spidery.

_We will not do this again, so do not squander the life that God has given you. Itachi has always been a true believer in our cause and has never shown the slightest mercy to any of our enemies. If he has seen fit to spare your life, then he must believe that you will have some part to play in God's ultimate plan._

_Please, do not persist in provoking our comrades in such a reckless fashion. Bringing peace to the shinobi world requires warriors of great power. Such men are notoriously volatile, as you have clearly seen. We are not completely opposed to you offering your companionship to our comrades but do not try to engage them in battle. Your second attempt would fare no better than your first._

Sakura laid on the bed and read the message again. It was clearly from the Angel of the Rain - as she read, she could clearly picture the woman's pained expression - but she couldn't reconcile those calm, measured words with the madness she had seen in Hidan's eyes. _Or the inhumanity in Sasori's voice. Or Diedara, who took such great pleasure in abusing what he thought was an innocent girl. Men like that can't even bring peace to themselves, much less to the stinking cesspit of the shinobi world._

She stared up at the ceiling. _Any more than I can bring peace to myself._ Inside her, she could feel her dark chakra, eagerly waiting for her to lose her cool again.

She opened her fingers and let the message fall to the floor. _Is this Hell? The place where the bad people go? Is that why I stayed here after I died? Surrounded by monsters, all of them at least as bad as I am._

She sighed. _And am I being an idiot? For daring to dream that there's something more to the shinobi world that this?_

She sat up. _Fine, then. I'll be an idiot._

She smiled. _Just like you, Naruto-kun._

* * *

At the stroke of midnight, Sakura knocked on Hidan's door. Like before, the music was so loud that she had to knock three times before he opened the door.

"Fuck!" he said. "What the fuck do you-" Then he saw that it was Sakura. His words, like his expression, froze in place.

She smiled warmly. "I'm sorry. I think we got off on the wrong foot the other night. I'd like to apologize for-"

His eyes opened wide. "Y-You're dead! I killed you."

She tilted her head. "Well, technically, I killed myself. I still have a few, uh..." She shrugged. "...anger management issues to work out." She stepped toward him. "May I come in?"

She moved toward him again, bringing her body very close to his. He backed away from her, which made him open the door wider. She squeezed past him.

He blinked twice and then stared at her. "You were dead. Your heart stopped. I carried your body to the balcony and threw it off. Watched it fall six stories. Splat!"

She turned and gave him a sly smile. "And I thought you weren't supposed to touch me." She playfully shook her finger at him. "What would Jashin-sama say?"

"How did you... How could you..."

She waited a few seconds as she watched him jabber, struggling to craft an appropriate response. Then she held out her hand. "If you'd like, we can try it again." She watched him stare at her palm, searching for a wound that wasn't there anymore. Then she turned her hand and held up her index finger. "Just promise me two things. One, you won't kill me. Because you promised Itachi you wouldn't do that and we all know how ninjas are about keeping their promises." She held up a second finger. "Two, please don't use the 'w' word again. Even though I sort-of _am_ one, I do have a hard time managing my, uh..." She patted her belly. "...my _issues _when you say it all the time." She held out her palm again and smiled. "Deal?"

He stared at her face and then at her palm and then at her face again. "How can you..." Then he scowled at her. "Nobody _volunteers _for this! And nobody fucking comes back from the dead and asks for seconds!"

She held up her finger again. "Almost. You said _almost _nobody volunteers for this. Which means that somebody _did _volunteer for this. And that's what kept bothering me. I was riding the ferry across the dark river to the Land of the Dead and I kept wondering who that somebody was. Finally, I asked the ferryman-" She pointed at the headless dark figure. "-who looked a lot like that guy, except he still had a head and everything. I told him I would do _anything _to find out. And he said I should just go back and ask you. He was even turned the boat around for me." She smiled at him again. "So, who's the somebody?"

He stared at her, then turned to look at the stone figure, then back at her. He shook his head. Then he staggered over to the cassette player.

This time, she noticed, his cockiness was gone, replaced by a wobbling, unsteady shuffle. She smiled. Her strategy was working. She watched him press one of the buttons on the cassette player and, to her surprise, the eerie music went silent.

"Do you know who I am?" he said. "Who I really am?" He turned to face her. "Does this give you any clues?" He pointed at his ninja headband, which was laid across the corner of the altar. The symbol was for the Hot Water Village. A jagged line was carved across its face.

Her eyes opened wide. "You're...the guy?"

He crossed his arms. "Go on. If you know that much, then you know the story that's supposed to go with it. Tell it to me."

"Well, uh..." She cleared her throat. "There was this ninja village, Yugakure. In the Hot Water Country. About fifteen years ago, they renounced-"

"Thirteen."

"Okay, thirteen years ago. They renounced the way of the shinobi. They turned their village into a tourist attraction and devoted themselves to living lives of peace. Until a certain young man, who refused to abandon the path of the assassin, went crazy and killed the entire village in a single night. And that was you, wasn't it?"

He chuckled. "Trips me out when people tell that fucking story. So neat. So pat. Like you can tie it all up with a little red ribbon and toss it over your shoulder." Then he gestured at the stone figure. "But since _Jashin-sama himself _brought you back to life to hear the real story, I'll tell it to you. And when I'm done, you'll wish you'd have kept your ass on that goddamned ferry."

He sighed. "At first, it was animals." He waved his hands. "No. Scratch that. What really happened first was my father spending the first eight years of my fucking life telling me that I was the chosen one and that I was Jashin-sama's immortal servant and all that horseshit. You see, my parents were decended from a long line of Jashinist priests. And I wasn't kidding about the whole bloodline thing. My family really did spend generations playing who-fucks-who, with me as the end result."

He glanced at her. "And then, when I was eight, that's when they started with the animals. My father brings in this dog, beat half to death. Lays it down at my feet. It looks up at me, whimpering. Terrible. He puts some of the blood on his finger and tells me to lick it off. Tells me it's the only way to end its suffering. And...I'm eight and...it's my father and...and what the fuck else could I do? Tell him no?"

He came forward and stood in front of the altar. "I already knew the hand signs. My father made me practice them every fucking night. He helped me cut myself and draw the symbol." He looked at his wrist and then he rubbed it with his thumb. "In a way, the pain kind of helped. Gave me something to concentrate on, besides the dying dog and my creepy dad and my mom, off in the corner, chanting her religious nonsense."

He reached behind him and grabbed one of the long, thin blades. "He didn't make me torture it. That came later. With the first one, he just made me go straight for the kill." He turned the spear around, putting the tip of it against his chest, between the second and third ribs. "Once you penetrate the pericardial sac, it doesn't take very long." He glanced at her again. "As you found out the other night."

"Is that where the pleasure comes from?" she said. "The killing? Or from the torture?"

He gave her a fowl look. "You have no fucking idea what you're talking about." Then his expression softened and he continued. "There is no pleasure in this. It hurts me as much as it hurts the victim. I mean, my mom and dad were all over me afterwards, telling me what a good boy I was and all that shit. But all the praise in the world couldn't have made me feel any better about it. The only remotely good part about that night was knowing that I finally gave that dog some fucking peace."

Then his expression hardened again. He stared into a dark corner of the room. "But that's not completely true, either. After the first few times, I did start to enjoy torturing them. As sick as it sounds, its..." He shrugged. "I mean, it's one of those rare moments when you can concentrate on _their _pain and not yours. _You_ have the power. _You're_ the one in control. _You_ make the decisions and _they're_ the ones who have to obey them. And, finally, you are the one who sets them free. Who lets them cross the dark river to the land where there is no pain."

He put the blade back in its place on the altar and then he polished a smudge on it with his sleeve. "Not three months after, they dropped the bomb on us. I was sitting in class at the Ninja Academy and the Yukage walks in, tells us that we're not shinobi anymore. That we're going to practice the path of peace and not kill anybody."

Sakura tilted her head back. "So that was it. That's what set you off. When they renounced-"

Hidan gave her the evil eye. "Set me off? You think I didn't want that? You think I didn't jump up on the table and cheer my ass off? Fuck!" He crossed his arms. "I had enough of killing things. Being a ninja was the last thing on earth I wanted to do."

He started to walk in a circle around the altar. "It was my father who treated it like a fucking funeral. Said they were trading away up our birthright. Said they were giving up when they _knew _it was my destiny to put Yugakure back on the map. Said that we couldn't just simply hang up our kunai. The ninja way was in our blood and telling us to give it up was like telling a tiger to give up its stripes. Couldn't be done. Not in a million years."

"Hold on," said Sakura. "I'm not getting this. Aren't you the one who-"

He held up his hand. "Relax. Let me finish my story." Then he stared at her belly. "It's not like you don't already know the punchline. You just don't know that you know it."

He continued his walk, this time in the opposite direction. "So my father starts teaching me ninjutsu at night. And for the first two years, with the exception of dogs and cats going missing about once a month like fucking clockwork, everything seemed alright in the village." He stopped. "But then came the madness."

He picked up the pace as he talked. "At first, it was little things. Disagreements at the market started turning into fistfights. The fake sparring matches we put on for the tourists were starting to get real. And the couple next door. Their once-a-month arguements turned into once-a-day shouting matches. One night, right before one of our little ceremonies, the husband comes to our door. He's got a kunai in one hand and his wife's head in the other. And he's _smiling_."

He stopped. "I could feel it. All around me. Even from the other kids at school. The anger. The lust for blood." He nodded at her. "Just like I feel in you, Only not quite so strong."

"Did you feel the same way?" she said.

He shook his head. "I had an outlet. Remember? The missing dogs and cats? I was able to get my fix. They weren't. At recess, one of the other kids whipped out a knife." He tapped his chest. "Boom. Right in my heart." He chuckled. "Fat lot of good it did him. But the part that freaked me out was when I got up again. The faces of the other kids. They weren't worried about me or about the kid holding the bloody knife. They weren't even scared." He leaned toward her. "They all wanted some." He leaned further. In a hoarse whisper, he said, "A piece of the action."

He stared at the floor. "I ran home. And my father was there. Said it was time. Time to make the final contract with Jashin-sama. Time to fulfill my destiny. Takes me to the room where the altar is. There's a woman. She's got a white robe on. Her head's covered with a white veil. Because white is the color of death, you know. And she's kneeling in front of the altar. He told me she killed my mother. Said I had to avenge her death. Pokes her with a dagger. Makes me lick the blood. And say the words."

His wide eyes had a far-away look in them as he stared at the ground. "Jashin-sama. Grant me your power. And I shall be your faithful servant. Until, in death, we are reunited once more."

He turned to her. "I felt his power enter me. Jashin-sama's. And hers. As I made her suffer. And she didn't cry out. She just took it. Every bit of it. Didn't say a single word. Not even when I felt her heart stop."

Then he looked her in the eyes. "Okay. Your turn. Say the puchline. You know what it is, right? Only thing it could possibly be."

Sakura shuddered. "Then your father...He, uh, pulled off the veil...and it was, uh...Oh God. It was your..."

Hidan stood up straight, his hands balled into fists. "Of _course _it was my mother! Should have seen it a mile away. She just stood there and fucking took it. Nobody would volunteer for this shit. Except her." He turned and spat at the stone figure. "Fuck you, Jashin-sama. You and your whole fucked-up religion."

Sakura watched the spittle drip from the figure. "What did you do then?"

Hidan's eyes opened wide. "What did I do? What do you mean, what did I do?" He grabbed the triple-bladed scythe from the altar. "I killed the motherfucker! My dad was lot stronger than me and a better at taijutsu, but I was fucking immortal and he wasn't. All I needed was one drop of his blood." His grip on the weapon tightened. "I made my revenge last. For hours. Would've been days if I could've gotten his fat ass to survive longer."

Sakura felt her dark chakra start to stir. She took a breath to try and calm herself. "How,uh..." She swallowed. "How did it feel? When you finally got your revenge?"

Hidan's face had a beatific expression. "Like the weight of my childhood had been lifted from my heart. Like I was finally free. Like..." His expression soured. "But that didn't last very long. I realized that I was still Jashin's servant. Still bound to what I thought was a curse."

When he saw that she had a confused expression on her face, he stepped toward her. "But being the Angel of Death _isn't _a curse. Not at all." He looked in her eyes. "When I left the house, I could see the flames rising from the village. The slaughter had begun. When I got to the town square, the survivors were there. Waiting for me. For the boy who _couldn't _be killed. For the one they could kill over and over and over."

He smiled. "My father was wrong about so many things, but he was right about this. We can't just hang up our kunai. We are born shinobi and we will die shinobi and, in between, we must live as shinobi. As killers. As the bringers of Jashin's gifts of death and war and destruction. That's all we're good for. And if we can't do that, if we try to pretend we're something we're not, then the madness comes and _forces _us to. We can _never _give this up. Not in a million years."

He turned and walked to the stone figure. "The only peace the shinobi world can ever know is the peace of death. There is no other. That is our fate. To kill, until there is no one left to kill." He held up the scythe. "That is the gift I gave to the people of Yugakure that night. Peace. The only peace they could ever hope to attain."

He started shouting. "And that's the gift I want to share with the whole fucking shinobi world. The gift of peace. And that's why I hang out with these fucking infidels." He leaned toward her and spoke in a hoarse whisper. "Because they want exactly the same thing."

Outside, Saskura heard the loud crack of thunder.

Hidan shouted at the ceiling. "I _will _kill you, God of the Rain. Every one of you motherfuckers." Then he looked at her. "And when I have given my gift to the shinobi world, when I'm the last ninja left alive, I'll even kill myself." He grinned. "And then, without us, the rest of the world can finally live in peace."

He whirled about, leapt over the altar, and slashed the stone figure's neck with his scythe, sending yellow sparks skittering across the floor. "Then it'll be your turn to receive my gift. _Master_."

He stood still for a long moment. Then he said, "Get out. You got what you came for. You got my worthless jutsu and you got my worthless story." He waited another moment before shouting again. "Go!"

Outside the door, she looked up at the God of the Rain. He turned and looked down at her with a stoney expression, offering neither confirmation or denial for the things she had heard. Finally, he turned back to watch the downpour.

As she decended the stairs, she recalled Hidan's story. Even though it left her numb, she forced herself to remember every little detail of it. Defeating Hidan would require one more attack, and she knew she would need everything she had learned so far.

* * *

Three nights later, when Sakura ascended the stairs, she heard no music. When she reached the sixth floor, the God of the Rain turned and looked down. Etched into his pierced face was a odd expression, a slight shift of his impassive mask, that she could only interpret as concern or perhaps worry. For what or whom, she could not tell.

This time, she heard the footsteps after only the first knock. She was surprised a see quite a different man answer the door. Hidan's hair, which had always been neatly slicked back, now hung down raggedly. His cocky stance was gone, replaced by a pitiful slouch. And most striking were his eyes. Their brilliance had faded and they were lined underneath by dark circles.

He held the door open, not bothering to gesture her inside. "I dreamed about you last night," he said. "And the night before. And the night before that."

She entered. "Good dreams, I hope."

He shook his head slowly. "There was fire. Everywhere. The whole shinobi world was burning. Like the fires of hell. And I saw Jashin-sama, the god of death and retribution, walking the earth in the form of a man." He dragged his hand across his face, his fingers curled like a tiger's claw tearing across his right eye. "His face was scarred and ruined. From war." He scowled deeply. "From the hatred he felt in his tortured soul for the shinobi race. So much hate." He stared into a dark corner of his room. "He kills us. All of us. And when the last shinobi dies, he..." His lips curled, forming a twisted smile. "...he _cries_. For there are no more ninjas left to kill."

She went to her usual place. "So it was a good dream." She gave him a slight nod. "For you, I mean."

He grinned deeper. Then the smile faded. "I saw you. At the center of it all. Like the dark goddess herself, standing in the fields of slaughter. Reaping the harvest." He looked at her. "You were bound to him. To Jashin. By your hatred. And the men of this world, they all feared you. Called you the Angel of Death."

She tilted her head. "And where were you?"

His gaze descended. "I was...just one of the damned. Just a simple, ordinary shinobi once more. Being burned away, like all the others."

Then he looked into her eyes. "Who are you? _What _are you?"

She stood erect. "I'm a shinobi." Then she held out her hand.

He shook his head again. "What are you doing to me? Why do you keep coming here, when the only things I have left to offer are pain and suffering and death?"

She offered her palm to him again. "Indulge me."

She watched him stare at her hand "Don't be afraid," she said, breaking the silence. "They're only dreams. Not prophecies. In our dreams, we see visions of the things we are most afraid of. And, sometimes, visions of the things we secretly desire."

He looked at her face, and then her at palm again. Then he turned and reached for one of the daggers on the altar.

Just as he was about to pierce her unblemished skin, she held her hand up. "Wait a moment." She reached into her obi and pulled out a thin blade. "Let's make this absolutely fair. An eye for an eye, you might say."

He gave her a confused stare. Then he realized what she wanted. Too dazed to argue, he simply held out his own hand, palm up.

Her blade struck his palm at the same time his struck hers. When he licked her blood, she also made a show of licking the edge of her own dagger, leaving a thin red line across her tongue.

She shooed him away with her fingers. "Go on. Make your circle-triangle thingy."

He turned and went to the altar. As he cut open his wrist, she produced a small brown bottle from one of the hidden pockets in her sleeve. She held the tip of her blade over the opening and smiled when she saw a drop of his blood fall into it. She quickly replaced the cap and hid the bottle in her sleeve.

He finished his symbol and turned to face her, Just as he was about to speak, she said, "Let the ceremony begin."

When he stared at her again, she said, "Why don't you let me do it? After all, it's not very fair making you do all the work every time."

She untied her obi. He started to object, but she didn't listen. His objections stopped when she let the white silk fall from her shoulders and pile around her feet.

She watched him stare at her bare skin and saw that he was feigning a look of disgust. For a moment she thought the expression he was hiding was lust; instead, his wide eyes betrayed a deep, unrequited longing, a sense of need rather than mere desire.

He watched her lift the blade and lay the sharp edge against the skin over her heart. He stepped forward, nearly leaving the circle. "Don't," he said. "Don't kill yourself."

She smiled at him. "Don't worry. I won't make you break your promise to Itachi."

Then she dragged the edge of the blade sideways across her skin, using just enough pressure to keep it from tickling her. The pleasure of that made her breathe in, and when she did, she heard him breathe in as well.

Then she slid the blade downward, across the skin of her breast, until the edge rested against her hardening nipple. She waited for a moment before she flicked it across the tight bud of her flesh.

He gasped. "You can't...can't do that." All pretences of disgust in his expression had evaporated. "Jashin-sama doesn't-"

"I'm obeying the rules," she said. "You aren't touching me, and I'm not touching you." She nodded at the stone figure. "Besides, he can't even see us. He doesn't have a head."

He felt her blade trace arabesques across her pale, unblemished skin. His breathing quickened as his heartbeat drummed in his ears. Then he saw her kiss the skin of her hand. He felt the sensation of her lips against his own hand, and of her smooth. warm skin against his lips.

He felt the sesnation of her lips travel up his arm. Meanwhile, he felt the warmth of her other hand on his belly, caressing it softly as it moved downward.

When she touched herself, he felt as if his heart would explode. He sank to his knees. "Don't," he said, and immediately regretted it, because he knew his voice held no conviction at all.

She continued to tease her upper body with the blade while her other hand teased her lower parts. She knew that this was the first time he had felt such pleasure. At the same moment, she realized that this was her first time as well.

Not once during the past three years had she touched her body for the sheer pleasure of it. Her sexuality had always been a weapon, a tool that make the dark chakra rise. When Zabuza ignited her passions, or when she did it herself, she always likened it to the sharpening of a sword, something that made her focus her hatred into the instrument of her revenge.

But now, as her definition of revenge was beginning to change, so was the definition of her sexuality.

She sank to her knees as she felt her climax approach. It was so different now, not only because her body wasn't flooded with the dark charka, but because she could also feel his body, filled with the same delicious agony she was feeling. She could clearly sense the quickness of his breath and the racing of his heart. And, strongest of all, she could feel his flesh, as hard as an iron bar, pressing against the confines of his robe.

She hadn't expected her orgasm to feel the way it did. She expected the waves of pleasure that had always washed through her. Whst she didn't expect to feel was the concentrated rush of his pleasure, pulsing and charging and erupting, taking him over.

When the pleasure subsided, she laid back and closed her eyes. It was strange, she thought to herself, to feel like this, unaccompanied by the scent of blood or the thrill of her enemy's defeat or the fantasies of her anticipated revenge. For a moment, she dared to dream of what it would be like to abandon the assassin's road, to live like other people, where simple pleasures like these were commonplace.

As she rested, she wondered if her rejuvenation had restored her virginity as well. For the briefest of moments, she entertained the idea of reaching between her legs and finding out.

Then her body stiffened. She realized that it would have been a useless gesture. _Because virginity isn't defined by what is there. It's defined by what has been taken away._

Just as she was about to open her eyes and reach for her kimono, she felt something warm and wet on her hand. When she snapped her eyes open, she saw that Hidan had crawled beside her and was holding her hand. Unlike his wrist, the wound on his palm had not quite closed, and his blood slowly wept from the gap. Her own wound hadn't quite closed either and, for a moment, they laid side by side, holding each other's hand, feeling their blood mingle.

Then she watched Hidan's eyes close. Soon after, his grip on her hand loosened. She waited until she heard him softly snore before she rose and donned her kimono.

Outside, she looked up and saw the God of the Rain staring back at her. His impassive face now had a disapproving tone.

She crossed her arms. "Don't give me that look. I followed the rules. I didn't start any fights and I didn't get myself killed. Okay?"

He stared at her for another moment. Then he turned to watch the rain once more.


	12. Deidara

**Chapter 12: Deidara**

* * *

For three days, the Akatsuki were nowhere to be found, and Sakura roamed the halls of the building alone. Only the guards at the door remained, and they took no notice of her when she stood between them and watched the rain fall on the city. She was tempted to go out and explore, but she resisted the urge. She knew in her heart that wherever they had gone, the God of the Rain would still be watching everything she did.

On the fourth day, she emerged from her room to see the orange-haired sentinel on the top floor again. She had heard muffled voices echoing in the atrium the previous night, some jubilant but mostly weary, hushed whispers punctuated by loud yawns. Now, in the light of day, she heard nothing but the dim patter of raindrops against the walls.

She heard one of the guards cry out and point to the sky. Between the grey clouds, she saw the shape of a giant bird flying toward the city. Riding on its back was the shape of a man, his cloak flapping unsteadily behind him.

She squinted. The creature looked more like a prehistoric monster than any bird she'd ever seen. As it came closer, she could see that its odd skin was greyish-white, as though it had been formed out of modeling clay and brought to life. It made a tight circle around the building and then fluttered its wings, bringing itself down to land by her side.

The man on its back was Deidara. Sakura could see from his torn clothes and his wild hair that he had been in a fight. When he jumped off, she could sense that his chakra was not as strong as it had seemed on the Bridge of Tears. She also felt the residue of another chakra, one that was fowl and malevolent and made her skin crawl. She knew it must have been from the person he had been fighting.

He formed a few handsigns. The bird shrank and stiffened, finally becoming a lifeless clay figurine no taller than the tops of her ankles. She watched Deidara pick it up. She was mystified when she saw an opening, like a little mouth on his palm, chew the up the clay and swallow it.

Deidara glared at her. "What did you say to him? To Master Sasori?" When she didn't respond, he yelled, "On the river! When you were alone with him. What did you say?"

She tilted her umbrella toward him, offering to share her protection from the rain. He shoved her aside and stomped through the building's entrance.

Inside, she saw that the God of the Rain was standing on the ground floor, waiting for Deidara's report. She didn't know how he had come down nine flights of stairs in less than a minute. Being the least-strange thing she had experienced all week, she didn't give it another thought.

Deidara wiped the rain from his face. "It was right after we finished pulling out the One-Tail. That's when they attacked. Chiyo of the Sand and the Kazekage's other two brats. The old lady went after Sasori, of course, so I was stuck with the babysitting. They had some decent skills but they didn't last any long than their father did."

He smiled as he used his fingers to brush the strands of wet hair from his face. "Oh man, you should have seen them. Sasori and his grandmother. I'm telling you, it was the fight of the fucking century. The Art of the Puppet Master, in all its glory."

His smile faded. "And then, right at the end, right when she was down to her last two puppets and his poison was doing its magic on her, that's when it happened. He hesitated. He left an opening and her puppets went right for it." His fingers slashed across his heart.

He shook his head. "And then..." He took a breath. "Then the old lady offered to bring him back to life. As a human. Told him she would sacrifice her life for his."

He turned and glared at Sakura. "What did you say to him? Back on the river? Because he never would have left an opening like that. He _hated _the old bitch. More than he hated anything else, and I'll tell you this, he hated just about everything in this fucking world. Except his art." He sneered at her. "And you."

"What happened then?" said the God of the Rain.

"What happened then was that the fucking Nine-Tail's jinchuuriki came blasting through the wall of the cave. I don't know if he came to save the One-Tail or to fight him. Either way, he didn't give me any chances to double my quota. He was too worked up. Too strong. I barely made it out with my skin."

"I will send Zetsu to recover Sasori's ring," said the God of the Rain. Then he gave Sakura a sour glance. "When he returns, Deidara, I will give it to Tobi. Your new partner." When Deidara started to complain, the orange-haired god held up his pale hand. "You have an explosive temper and a short fuse. Tobi can survive those better than most. He shall be inducted as the ninth member of our army."

Sakura stepped forward. "Look. I'm sorry to hear about-"

Deidara whirled around. When he did, he slammed the edge of his hand against her face. The blow caught her off-guard and she was knocked down, sending her umbrella skittering across the stone floor.

"Silence, you bitch," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "In the Tsuchikage's palace, you'd have been killed for speaking to me like that."

Even before she realized what had happened, she felt her dark chakra surge through her, stronger than ever. She wiped the blood from her mouth and when she took her hand away, she felt her lips curl with malevolent anticipation.

He punched her in the face. Hard. "Come on. Where's that smart mouth of yours?" He grabbed her by her hair. Then he grabbed his crotch with his other hand. "Open it up. I'll fill up that nasty little hole."

She couldn't feel his hand on her head, or the pain in her face. Even his words seemed like distant echoes. All she could feel was the dark chakra, no longer begging her for release, but demanding it.

_It's too soon. Not in public, with the God of the Rain watching._

But her dark chakra wasn't listening. She felt her energy peak. Then she felt her body start to move on its own.

He released his grip on her hair and watched her rise. When she was on her feet, he smashed his fist into her face. "Come on, tough girl. Show me what kind of bitch you really are. Show me!"

Her hands started to shake. "Shouldn't...hit a lady," she said in a voice not entirely her own. "Didn't your...your mother ever teach you-"

He slapped her. "No! She _didn't _teach me any fucking manners! So why don't you do me a favor and teach them to me? If you think you have what it takes."

She didn't feel his slap. She didn't feel anything. The dark chakra was taking over. The world around her was red as blood.

She watched Deidara draw his arm back for another hit. Inside, her dark chakra was preparing itself to strike, like an archer drawing his bow, waiting until just after he launched his fist. That's when she knew her fury would unleash itself. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

But his attack didn't come. She looked up to see the God of the Rain holding Deidara back.

Her lips curled. "I don't...I don't need your protection."

He stared at her with a look of cold contempt. "It's not you I'm trying to protect." He nodded his his head toward Deidara. "Leave us. When you have recovered your chakra, I will need you and Tobi to go and capture the Three Tails." When Deidara hesitated, he shouted, "Go!"

He waited until Deidara was out of listening range before he spoke again. "When I watched you step off that boat, I thought there might be some hope for you. All your talk about plans. How you said you had it all figured out."

He stepped toward her, calmly, as though unafraid of the murderous power that she could no longer keep in check. He gestured at her belly "Do you really think you're the first person in history to perform this forbidden feat of internal alchemy? To harness the power of your hatred? To fashion it into a weapon?" He leaned toward her. "And did you really believe that your power came without cost?"

He stood erect. "Your fate is the same as all of the others who have crossed this line. Those who have danced with their hatred and thought they could simply step away from it anytime they wished. They all have succumbed to the madness. Every single one of them. Just as you have."

He reached down and gently held her face with his hands. He stood for a moment, looking calmly into her dark, brutal eyes, feeling her teeth chatter with blind hate. "If you ask it of me, I will take the pain away. I will lift your soul from this abyss and send it to the afterlife. Where you may at last find peace."

He watched her lips start to move but she was too far gone to speak, He waited for a few more seconds before releasing her from his strong, gentle hands. Then he held up his palm and pointed it at her. "And if you will not ask for a gracious end to this, or if you cannot, then I will release you in a way that is not so gentle."

She felt her lips jabber, unable to form words. The darkness was closing in on her. The blood-red world was fading to black. Soon, only a tiny patch of reality remained visible before her eyes. Like the red moon in Itachi's dark reality.

Then she pictured the little boy, running through the dark streets of Konoha, sobbing alone. And she remembered her promise to him.

The tiny patch of reality stopped shrinking. And then it started to grow.

The God of the Rain stepped backwards. "No one can..." He stood with his mouth open, not believing what he could clearly sense. "No one has ever beaten back the madness. No one." He watched her body straighten. "What are you?"

She stood erect, as calm as a statue, with eyes as clear and bright as a summer afternoon. "I'm a shinobi."

He stared at her for a long moment. Then he scowled. "No. If you were a shinobi, then the madness would have claimed you, as it had all the others. You are..." He looked her up and down, searching for a dark chakra that had almost completely vanished. Then he looked into her eyes. "You are something different."

When he turned, she said, "Let me handle Deidara in my own way. I promise I won't-"

He looked back at her, his face red with anger. "Handling things your own way is what got you here!" Then his expression began to soften. Finally he turned away from her, spread out his arms, and floated upwards.

"If you wish to throw your life away, then I won't stop you," he said as he ascended to his perch. "Just don't let him blow up my building."

* * *

When she heard the words "blow up my building," she finally realized who Deidara was. When Zabuza was her master, she had often heard rumors of a man called "The Terrorist," or "The Mad Bomber," or a dozen other names. He was rumored to use an explosive clay that he could mold into animal shapes and bring to life. He had a reputation as a ruthless killer, someone who was not afraid to attack high-level targets, even targets within the walls of the ninja villages.

In other words, he was the competition.

In her mind, she had painted him as tall and dark and brooding, someone who had a grudge against the world and the will to do something about it. In short, she pictured Zabuza with a beard. And eyebrows.

But she couldn't match up that picture with the whiney, spoiled man-child that was Deidara. She had known many such men but always as clients. Men who preferred to leave the dirty work to someone else. Men who cared for nothing except themselves. Men who would certainly not risk their lives to infiltrate the heavily-guarded walls of the Sand Village, fight the Kazakage, and abduct his son.

A man-child could never perform such an act out of vanity alone, despite his boastful assertions that "He was a pro." There was too much risk and too little payoff.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror and used her chakra to repair the broken tissues of her face. _Or am I overthinking this?_

_The God of the Rain is right. If I keep depending on the dark chakra, I'll eventually lose my self to it_.

She gritted her teeth. _A couple of months ago, I would have gladly traded in my soul for a chance to kill Sasuke. I've always accepted that my story would end with my violent, untimely death. But now..._

She felt her jaw unclench. _Now I have something to live for. I have my plan._

She winced as she closed the last of the cuts. All that remained was to erase the scarring and hide the damage. "It's simple," she said to her reflection. "I just won't use the dark chakra anymore. I'm strong. I don't need a crutch to see this through."

She pictured Deidara again, standing over her, grabbing himself, leaving himself exposed. _Like he did on the boat. You'd think he would have learned his lesson the last time. _Then she remembered how hard he was when he rose from the floorboards of the riverboat. And the milky-white puddle he left.

Her eyes opened wide. Then she smiled.

She burst through the door of her room and ran to find Tobi. Fortunately, he was standing in the middle of the bulding's lobby, staring at the palm of his hand.

In his palm was a bright, silvery ring. When she ran to him, he looked at her through the hole in his mask. In his sing-song voice, he said "Look, Haruno-sama. Master has presented Tobi with..." He held up his palm. "...a ring! Tobi _is _a good boy! Tobi is Akatsuki at last!"

She painted a smile on her face. "That's...good. I always knew you were a good boy. Now, if you wouldn't mind doing me a favor, I need-"

He spun around like a ballerina. "Oh yes, Haruno-sama. I'll do it. I can do anything. I'm an Akatsuki! Leader-sama has finally-"

"Blueprints!" she said. "I need the blueprints to this building, Tobi. Since you're such a good boy and all that, would you go and get them for me?"

He continued to spin. "Yes, Haruno-sama. I'll get them for you." He stopped. "Wait. What do these blueprints look like?"

She gave an irritated sigh. "Well, they're..._blue_...and they have the plans to this building drawn on them, and-"

"Ah!" he said. "I know what you're looking for!" He started to run away, but he stopped after three steps and turned to face her. "Pardon me for asking, Haruno-sama, but what do you want them for?"

She crossed her arms. "Leader-sama doesn't want me to blow up his building. So I need to find out what it would take to completely destroy it, and then make up a plan which falls short of that."

She watched Tobi stare at her, tilting his head like a confused lap dog. Then he tilted it the other way. Finally, he straightened up and began running again. "Right away, Haruno-sama. Right away."

* * *

Deidara's room was on the second underground level, in the space marked as the Physical Plant on the blueprints. At one time, the building used a steam generator for power and heating, and it was located at the end of a tunnel which jutted from the side of the building's foundation. That way, she realized, if the generator blew up, the damage to the rest of the building would be minimized.

She walked to the end of the tunnel._ That's assuming it's a steam explosion, of course. The Mad Bomber's famous for taking out entire buildings, so he's probably got enough explosives down here to blow up the entire block. Maybe even the village._

She stood before the door and stared at it. _And then there's the other bomb_. She put her hand on her belly. The dark chakra lurked within her, waiting for its chance._ If I can just keep my cool, then neither of us will go off._

She knocked. On the other side, she heard Deidara's voice say, "Who is it?"

She didn't respond. She kept watching the door, waiting for it to open.

When she saw the handle rotate, she launched herself forward, slamming her shoulder into the dark iron door. She felt it hit Deidara's body as it swung inwards.

She had only a moment before he came to his senses. She flew around the door and reached for his right hand with her left. In the same motion, she clamped one end of her handcuffs around his wrist.

He tried to jump back and get some distance from her, but it was hopeless. The other end of her handcuffs was around her left wrist. They were chained together.

He tried to form hand signs but she wouldn't let him. She jerked on the chain and blocked his arms, ruining his seals.

Then he tried punching her in the face. That didn't do him any good, either. She knew that he was the type who relied too heavily on his explosives and neglected his taijutsu. She easily dodged it, bringing her body inside his strike. As she did, she aimed her own fist at his shoulder, where the tendons of his biceps made an inviting target.

It worked. He shrieked in pain as he tried to pull away from her. It did him no good. It left his chest exposed, allowing her the make quick, brutal jabs at his pectoral muscles on the right side of his chest.

He came back, trying to punch her body, but the sharp pains in his chest and shoulder made him move like an old lady. She had no trouble deflecting the blow.

Then he tried kicking her. She moved to the side to avoid it. In the same motion, she jerked on the chain, throwing him off his balance.

While he wasted time recovering from that, she moved behind him and cranked his left arm behind his back. She also grabbed his flailing right arm and pulled it toward her.

She couldn't help but to smile as the pain in his right shoulder forced a pathetic wail to escape his throat. With him under her control, she forced him to the right side of the room, toward the space marked "Toolroom" on the blueprints.

When she studied the blueprints, it was clear that the left side of the room was occupied by the large dormant boilers and generators. Most of the remaining space was dedicated to piles of coal and ash. She knew that the toolroom was the logical place for him to set up his workshop.

As she forced him into the enclosed space, she felt his arm quiver, She looked down to see the little mouth on his palm vomit up a ball of his explosive clay.

"Let go of me, you bitch," he shouted. "Or I'll blow you up."

She kicked the door shut behind her. "In here?" she said. She let go of his arm and gestured to the multitude of jars and boxes, most of which had labels marking them as "Highly Flammable" or "Explosive."

His hand swallowed up the clay.

She slapped him. "Lesson one. Don't use the B-word to address a lady." She slapped him again. "Especially if that lady is_ me_."

Then she slapped him a third time. "Lesson two. When a lady speaks, you will be attentive and never-" She stopped speaking when he raised his hand to guard his face.

"What are you doing?" he whimpered.

She raised her hand as though she was going to slap him again. "I'm teaching you some manners. Just as you had requested. Now drop your arm and be attentive. Or I'll do something worse than slapping your face."

She wasn't surprised when he didn't move his arm. She formed her hand into a fist, doing it slowly so that he could watch.. Then, without warning, her fist rocketed downwards, slamming into his crotch.

She watched him double over with pain. "As I was saying, you piece of shit, a gentleman is always attentive when a lady speaks and never interrupts." She grabbed his odd ponytail and pulled him up until she could stare into his eyes. "And that is especially true if I am that lady." She slapped him again. "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

She put an exaggerated show of rage on her face. "Yes, _what_, you worm?"

He averted his eyes. "Yes, master."

She raised her arm again. When he flinched, she yelled, "Do I look like a man to you?" Then she stood up straight and thrust out her chest. "Does this body look like a man's body?"

She watched his eyes as they flitted to her feet, then rose up her legs, paused at her slim hips, and then traveled to her breasts. When his gaze lingered there too long, she slapped him again. "Lesson three. A lady is a _lady_, not a piece of meat. When you address a lady, always look her in the eyes." She slapped him again. "They're here!" She pointed at her eyes. "My eyes are up here!"

She felt his arm tug against the handcuffs. "I don't... What are you-"

She held up her hand to signal him to stop interrupting. "In time, I will explain everything about how a gentleman should treat a lady. Such as when you've earned the right to speak to me." She made a fist. "And what happens when you forget yourself and do it anyway."

As he watched, she relaxed her fist and then reached into her sleeve for the handcuff key. "For now, I think we understand each other well enough for me to release you. If you promise to be a good boy, of course. In time, you will come to find that being a good boy will earn you certain privileges. And when you are not being a good boy, you will most certainly receive severe punishment."

She held up the key. "The subject of manners is long and complicated. So many rules. So many shades of meaning. It would take hours to teach them all to you. And if you decide to be a bad boy, this process could last for days on end."

She could see that he wasn't quite understanding her yet. "I shall teach you when to express your worthless opinions and when to keep them to yourself. When to act and when to remain still." She flicked her eyes at him. "When it is permissible for you to touch my body and when it is not." Then she looked him in the eyes. "Even when you may be permitted to touch yourself. And when you must exercise discipline and restraint. Do you understand me, you maggot?"

She saw that while he was forcing his face to maintain a grim expression, he couldn't keep his eyes from smiling. She suppressed her own smile, confident that he understood her game at last.

She took a breath. She could feel the dark chakra inside her, waiting for its chance to erupt. The she took another breath, and as she did, she resolved that she would keep her cool, that she would put aside her hatred and accomplish her plan. That she would be her own master.

"Understand this," she said. "I despise you. And all the men like you. The self-important bastards who crow about their famous bloodlines and their fancy clans and their high status." For a moment, she pictured the face of Sasuke Uchiha, his red eyes glowing in the darkness. She felt her dark chakra start to rise. Then she took another breath and let the growing hatred settle and diminish. "But we both know the truth. Don't we? That you are a small man. Weak and foolish and undisciplined, like the men who used to hire me to do their dirty work. A little boy, shooting his mouth off and overstepping his boundaries. Because nobody ever taught you where those boundaries were supposed to be, did they? Nobody ever took the time to _educate _you."

She grabbed him by the ponytail, forcing his head back. "You should be grateful. I don't offer this service to everyone. Only to those men who have so royally pissed me off that I can no longer stand their presence." She pulled harder. "Are you grateful?"

"Yes," he said.

Again, she pictured Sasuke's face. Again, she felt her hatred rise. And again, she took a breath and let her body settle.

"Yes _what_?" she said.

"Yes, Mistress."

She took another breath. And then she smiled and unlocked the handcuffs, confident that she finally had complete control over Deidara. And over herself.

Her first command was for him to remove his robe and all of his other clothing. She told him that he would have to earn the priviledge of wearing them again.

She couldn't believe how hard he was. His penis was so engorged that it almost seemed to _glow _with red. She reached out and lightly ran the tip of her finger along the underside. Her eyes narrowed when she saw a dribble of clear fuild leak from the tip.

With her fingers, she flogged his balls. She watched him bend over from the pain. "A gentleman does _not _flaunt his dirty little erection at a lady. A gentleman always treats a lady like a lady, not like some common prostitute. Learn that lesson quickly or this will be a very long night."

When he rose, she was surprised to see that he was, if anything, even harder. In a soft voice, she said, "Do you want me to allow you to touch yourself? To relieve your suffering?"

His hand reached forward but stopped just short of his penis. Instead, he formed a fist and pressed it against his hip to fight the temptation. "Yes, Mistress."

She looked down at his erection. Then she looked up into his eyes. She tilted her head back and looked down her nose at him. "Too bad," she said. "Suffer anyway."

They worked long into the night. As she promised, she taught him how to address a lady and how to speak to a lady and when to keep silent and let the lady do the talking. He made many mistakes. Some of them were unintentional slip-ups which earned him a light slap on his face or on his backside. Others were more willful. These were rewarded with punishing attacks to his ribs or his testicles, or by yanking his hair, or for one particularly rude outburst, by grabbing a broomhandle and some candlewax and doing to his bottom what she had once threatened to do to Zabuza's.

It was hours before she let him touch her body, and still more hours before she let him untie her obi and watch the fabric slip from her shoulders. After that, he politely begged to touch her. Slowly, he earned the right to touch her arm, then the skin of her back, and eventually won the permission to touch her breasts. She quickly found out that in this situation a man with mouths on the palms of her hands was not an unpleasant thing.

With as much politeness as he could muster, he asked if he could be permitted to reach down and touch a lady where he most desired. She couldn't refuse such a heartfelt request. When she felt the mouth of his right hand began to part the folds of her flesh, she saw him sudder. The mouth on his face also began to move. He smacked his lips as tough he could taste her flesh.

After a minute he looked down at her breast and then into her eyes. "May I?" he said, too worked up wih desire to say anything more than that.

"You may," she said. Like him, it was all she could manage to say.

Then she felt his final mouth take her nipple, suckling it, teasing it with hot, wet pressure. It didn't take very long after that. She felt herself spill over the edge, and when she cried out she held nothing back.

When she was able to open her eyes again, she saw that his torment had become truly unbearable. He stood with his eyes closed, no longer able to tolerate the sight of her body and the desire it inspired in him. His held his fist next to his aching genitals and pressed it into his hip bone with such force that his fingers were turning white.

"May I-" he said before taking a breath to calm himself. "May a gentleman be permitted to touch himself?" His eyes closed tighter. "Please?"

She stood next to him, her body almost touching his. "No," she said. Then she wrapped her fingers around his flesh. "I will do it."

With each slow stroke of her hand he shuddered, helpless to do anything else. Despite her light, teasing grasp, he couldn't last much longer. Finally, she saw him open his eyes and look at her face. Almost immediately after, she felt him start to ejaculate.

Like her, he cried out loudly and without shame. Each spasm made his whole body jerk. He couldn't help but to put his arm around her to support himself.

When he was spent, she watched his stiff penis start to droop, finally permitted some peace after many hours of agony. The rest of his body began to droop as well. She laid him down on the toolroom floor, folded his discarded pants and put them under his head to act as a pillow. Then she covered him with his robe. "I think you've earned this," she said as she tucked him in.

Her own eyes were just as droopy. She glanced at her discarded kimono, and then at him. She shrugged and laid her body next to his, arranging his robe so that it covered them both.

She waited for a minute before losing herself to sleep, and marveled at the simple pleasure of feeling his warmth against her bare skin. She could only barely sense the dark chakra. She wondered if her dependency of it was finally over. The prospect of that made her smile, and she continued to smile even she felt herself slip away to the land of dreams.

* * *

In the morning, Deidara awoke to see Sakura standing at his workbench. She was reading from one of his explosives books and mixing chemicals together . When he saw her pick up one of the vials, he leapt to his feet.

"No!" he said. "Don't add that yet. Not until you've homogenized the mixture. Otherwise, you'll blow the whole place sky high."

Her brow furrowed. "But the Tsuchikage's formula doesn't say anything about that."

He sighed. "I know. That alone explains a lot about my childhood." He filled a copper pot with water and set it over a gas burner. He lit the burner and turned it all the way up. "You see, the Tsuchikage wasn't just my sensei. He's my father."

Her eyes opened wide. "The leader of the Earth Village...is your dad?"

He scowled. "He's _not _my dad. He's just my father. Truth is, he's the father of a lot of people."

Her eyebrows raised. "We're talking about the same guy, right? That little old man? Isn't he a bit...long in the tooth for that sort of thing?"

Deidara shrugged. "Apparently not. And let's face it, there's a lot of women who are willing to throw themselves at him." He dipped his finger in the iron pot to check the temperature. "But that's mainly because they hope to score big in the genetic lottery."

He glanced at Sakura. "You see, he's one of only two people in history to be able to use the Particle Release techniques. It requires a very special set of bloodline traits, mixed in just the right proportions. And there's plenty of women who are dying to give birth to the next in that line." He held up one of his hands and opened the mouth on it. "Unfortunately, if the proportions aren't exactly right, you end up with freaks like me."

He checked the water again, pausing a bit longer this time. "Most women don't expect any more out of the relationship than that. But my mother was different. She said that my destiny was special. That I had what it took to become the next Tsuchikage. That the old man should accept me as his own son. She even said that publicly."

His face took on a sad expression. "Not long after that, they told me she died in an accident. I believed them. I mean, I was a little kid. What was I supposed to believe? I had no clue as to the number of 'accidents' that happen to the women of Iwagakure who over-estimate their importance."

He dipped his finger again and then immediately pulled it out. He put her mixing vessel on the surface of the water and turned the gas down. "But the damage was done. He had no choice but to take me in. He couldn't leave his own child to die alone, could he?" His expression became bitter. "I mean, what would people think? That he's a horrible monster of a father?"

He stirred the mixture, stopping every so often to sniff it. "I wasn't the only one. There were actually quite a few of us semi-acknowledged bastards living in his palace. Breathing his air, as he often put it. It wasn't too long after I arrived that he started his little training school. He would be the sensei. And we would be his little victims."

He called he over and had her sniff the mixture. "You smell that? How it doesn't smell that much like lighter fluid anymore? It's starting to homogenize." He handed her the wooden spoon. "Stir it. Give it another minute or two. When it starts getting softer, that's when it's ready."

He wached her stir. "That little omission in the formula was just one of his little tricks. He had plenty of others. Some of us caught on early. The others weren't so lucky." He gave a long, pained sigh. "And that's why I can proudly say that I'm his greatest student. Because I'm the only one who survived all that."

He sniffed again and signaled for her to continue. "But that wasn't the worst. The worst was being all alone, locked in my room, year after year. Looked after by women who were forbidden to speak to me. Or touch me. Or even to acknowledge my presence.

He noticed that his hands had started to shake. He made fists to keep them from betraying his feelings. "I begged them to speak to me. To yell at me. To do anything." His fists curled tighter. "Even when I grabbed them and threw them to the floor and screamed at them. Even when I did things to them. Terrible things." He started at the blue flames of the gas burner. "Even when I beat them. So hard that they stopped moving. Stopped breathing. They said nothing. Nothing at all."

He kept staring at the flames until he heard her say, "It's softening up now. Is it ready yet?"

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Then he sniffed the vessel. "Okay, that's good. See how the tiny crystals in the mixture have melted away? It's safe to add the rest of the ingredients. Just do it carefully and make sure that each component is throughly blended before adding the next "

After that, she had only two ingredients left, both of which were written in pencil below the others. "These extras? Is that how you make them come to life?"

"Yes. Most of that comes from my unique bloodline trait. When I knead the clay, I mix my chakra in with it. Then I can use my trait to bring them to life. Sculpting has always been my art. With this explosive clay, I can transform that into the highest form of self-expression."

He crossed his arms and watched her finish. "For all those years, I only had my art to keep me company. Which drove the old man up the fucking wall, of course. He used to tell me that only women and faggots wasted their time on art."

When it was ready, he showed he how to knead the clay. "You don't have to do anything special. The more you work it, the more of your chakra it absorbs. I have clay that I've kneaded for years. And when I finally unleash it, it will be enough to take out an entire city."

"Iwagakure, perhaps?" She said as she kneaded the clay. He could tell by the way she occasionally stopped and rubbed her palms together that the components were perfectly balanced. The clay was absorbing her chakra quite well.

His gaze moved to the gas flame again. "Art is an explosion. It bursts onto the scene, blowing away all of the tired old crap that came before it. That is art's true purpose. Not to hang around forever, spouting the same out-of-date message over and over. Or to hog all of the space in the gallery for eternity, crowding out everything new and different. And it most certainly is not there to think that it's eternal, that it has some god-given right to put itself before everything else. That it can go around snipping off everyone else's flowers before they've had a chance to bloom, afraid that one of them may blossom more brightly."

She glanced at him as she continued to knead. "I'm sorry to hear about your friend Sasori. I didn't say much of anything to him. I just let him tell his story. Kind of like how I'm letting you tell yours. I got the impression that he didn't open himself up very often. Maybe he had a lot of stuff to get off his chest, and when he did, perhaps he saw that those issues weren't so big after all."

He watched her form the lump of clay into a ball. "Why did you make a batch of explosives?"

She picked up the ball and offered it to him. "Because you have a mission coming up. And I thought you might still be a little sore after last night."

He set the ball back on the workbench. He rotated his right arm, assessing the pains in his shoulder. "Actually, I feel really good right now. Like a new man."

Then he knelt beside her. Before she had a chance to object, he wrapped his arms around her hips and buried his face in the fabric of her kimono. "Will you educate me again? I have so much I that still need to learn."

She grabbed his ponytail and pulled back on it until he was looking up at her face. "I won't be so gentle this time. You think you can handle that?"

His jaw was set but his eyes smiled up at her. "After all, I'm the Tsuchikage's greatest student. If I could survive his lessons, then I think I could learn to handle yours."


	13. Kakuzu

**Chapter 13: Kakuzu**

One morning, Sakura felt as though she was falling through the floor. Her damp, grey room swirled around her and went black.

When she recovered her senses, she found that she was standing in a forest. She looked up at the rays of golden sunlight shining through the canopy of treetops above.

Her heart pounded when she sensed another person behind her. She whirled around but no one was there. When she was finally convinced she was alone, she craned her neck and shouted, "Hello!"

"That was quick!" called a faraway voice.

She looked in the direction of the voice and saw a large, dark shape emerge from behind a distant tree. It seemed too large to be a man. For a moment she thought she was looking at a black bear, standing on its hind legs. Then the shape reached out her, beckoning her with its arm.

She squinted. Then her shoulders dropped. It was Kakuzu.

He waited until she was close before speaking again. "I asked Zetsu to bring you to me. I thought it might take forever for you to get all the way out here. Yet here you are, not five minutes later."

She picked her way through the underbrush. "How did I get here?"

Kakuzu shrugged. "Who's to say? The others have their little secrets. Just as you and I do." He tilted his head. "The offer still stands, right? I may use your body in any way I wish? As long as I don't kill you?"

She sighed as she came to stand before him. His menacing green eyes were so intensely bloodshot that she could see no white in them. Everything else was hidden beneath his dark cloak and cowl and mask. For a moment, she wondered if she wouldn't be better off with the bear.

She crossed her arms. "Well, if you're looking for a little..._romance_, I suppose I can help you out. Just let me hang up my kimono before we-"

He grinned under his mask. "I'm flattered, young lady, but I have no interest in _romance_. Frankly, I am not capable of that. It requires organs I do not possess and am not looking to acquire. I have another man, however, whose body you will become intimately familiar with over the next few hours."

He raised his arm and pointed his finger into the woods. "His."

She turned. Sitting on the ground, propped up against a tree, was the body of a shinobi. He wore the headband and body armor of an elite Konoha ninja. His square jaw was covered by a short scraggly beard. She had never seen him before, but she found the shape of his face to be quite familiar.

She could clearly see that he was dead. His wasn't breathing and the trails of blood from the holes in his vest had gone dry. But there was a odd peacefulness to his expression, one she rarely saw on the faces of her targets.

"His bounty is worth 35 million ryu," said Kakuzu. "Provided I get it to the next bounty station in one piece. You will carry it for me."

She huffed. "Is that all you need me for? To be your pack mule?"

He gave a soft chuckle. "For now. And you shouldn't be so quick to complain. You might find the burden of his body to be quite easy to bear." When he saw the questioning look on her face, he chuckled again. "For he was Asuma Sarutobi, the son of the man that ordered your death. The son of the Third Hokage himself."

* * *

There were no stains on the back of the corpse's vest so she took it off and put it on him backwards. She then stood him up and laid his belly across her back. She hooked her arm around his leg and then grabbed his wrist. It left his other limbs dangling but it kept the center of his body in line with hers. It also left her other arm free to defend herself if things came to that.

Judging by the way Kakuzu cautiously slipped through the woods, he had the same concerns she did. Konoha ninja rarely operated alone. At any moment, the rest of his team could appear, looking to exact their revenge. And even if they didn't show up, she knew that the Konoha ANBU would. The body of a high-level ninja held many secrets - 35 million ryu worth of secrets, she thought to herself - and the ANBU would stop at nothing to keep those secrets hidden.

It was Sakura who finally broke the silence. "Your friend. Where'd you find him?"

Kakuzu glanced at Asuma for a moment. "Hidan and I were out searching for someone. Someone who possessed, well, a certain power that we need to acquire."

"A jinchuuriki?" said Sakura. "What exactly _is _a jinchuuriki, anyway?"

"I shouldn't answer that," he said. "If you really want to know, you'll have to ask our leader. He makes the plans. I just carry them out. And collect the bounties when the opportunities arise."

He gestured at Asuma. "Anyway, we were collecting the bounty for a priest, a man of great skill. He could have been an excellent shinobi if he hadn't wasted his life on all this 'Will of Fire' nonsense. We had only wanted to ask him a few questions about the person we are seeking. Then a fight broke out. It was all for the good, however. I got 30 million ryu for his body."

Kakuzu reached over and tugged the sash that was tied around the corpse's waist. The sash had the symbol for 'fire' written on it. Only those who had served as the daimyo's personal guardian ninjas could wear them. "The priest also had one of these. Perhaps it's why our friend here fought with such passion. The rest of his team had some promise, but none of them were old enough to be listed in my bingo book. Once we had our prize, we slipped away with him."

"What happened to Hidan?"

Kisame crossed his arms and groaned. "He fought as well as he usually did. Meaning he acted like a fool and got himself killed once or twice before he finally finished the guy off. But there was something odd about him this time. Something...different. Anyway, when I told him it was his turn to carry the body again, he threw a fit and took off. So now it's your turn."

"And you are different, too," he said. "You _feel _different. Like you're not the same person anymore." He reached over and touched her belly with his finger. "In there."

She put her free hand on the spot he had touched. Then she smiled. "You're right. I am different now. I can barely feel the dark chakra. Maybe..." She shrugged as best she could. "Maybe I don't need it anymore. Perhaps it's the start of a new era for me."

Kakuzu gave her a serious look. "Perhaps so."

As they walked, she found herself looking over at the face of the Third Hokage's son. Having seen so many men before their deaths and after, it had become easy for her to tell the good men from the bad. The bad ones stored their hatred and their wickedness around their mouth or between their eyes. Even in death, it was easy for her to spot the remnants of that tension.

But the Third's son had little of that. His face bore the marks of someone who had spent more time smiling than he did frowning, someone who laughed more than he scowled. His face was also a bit careworn, something she never saw in the faces of wicked men.

He looked a lot like his father. She had rarely seen the Third in person but she knew his face from the monument above her village. That face was one of her first memories. Her mother held her as her father said his goodbyes before one of his long missions. At that moment, the clouds parted and the rising sun made the faces of the monument glow with golden light. That light also illuminated her father and his face seemed to join the others, becoming the fifth and largest of the wall of heroes.

In that moment, she knew what it meant to be a true shinobi. To be a hero. A protector. Someone who fought for peace and justice. Someone who battled the strong to protect the weak.

Then she looked away from Asuma and stared into the dark forest ahead_. That was before Sasuke and Zabuza, who showed me that none of us are heroes. That the shinobi are just whores and murderers and nothing more._

Then she remembered Naruto in the forest, also bathed in golden light. And the cherry blossom, dancing with the first leaves of spring. And the words of the old fool who called himself Jiraiya. How he said that faith was the strongest tool.

_Faith in what? In the village that ordered my death? In all the 'Will of Fire' bullshit they used to tell me? In the hope that I'll wake up tomorrow and somehow everything will be different?_

Her eyes narrowed. _No. The only thing I can believe in is myself. And my plan. Everything else are lies. And the dreams of little girls who don't know any better._

She shifted Asuma's heavy weight to relieve her aching shoulders, and she put a little more chakra into her legs and back. She was careful to reserve as much chakra as possible. "How much further?" she said.

Kakuzu glanced back at her. "We should reach the next bounty station by noon."

"And who will be waiting for us when we get there? Just his team? Or the ANBU as well?" When she heard no reply, she said in a sneering voice, "And you're willing to risk your life just to add a few more coins to your collection?"

"More than a few," he said. "And don't take that tone with me. I love to collect my coins but I'm not in love with the coins themselves."

He gestured to the world around him with a sweeping motion of his hand. "We are not like _them_. The people who hire us to solve their little problems. We need money to survive, of course, but we do not love it as they do. For them, it buys them the pleasures and pretty things they need to fill up their meaningless lives. It grants them authority over the people around them, and we let them believe that it buys authority over us. Without it, they are truly nothing."

He made a fist. "What the shinobi value is power." He tightened his grip. "Real power. The power of your body and spirit. The strength to dominate your enemies and destroy them. Or at least to keep them from destroying you. In the end, that power is the only thing a shinobi can believe in."

He led the way, talking as he moved through the trees. "But as the decades passed, I came to see that money could also be a form of real power. A form that a even person such as myself could acquire. I could accumulate it for years and expend it when I needed. What if I someday need the strength of ten men? With money, I could go to any ninja village and buy that strength. Or a hundred or a thousand. As many as I could afford. With enough cash, I could defeat an army. Or an entire nation."

"So let me ask you a question," she said. "Same one I asked Zabuza. If you could buy your way into taking over an entire ninja village, what would you do with it? How would you make things better?"

He chuckled. "I wouldn't. That's why I've never tried." He was silent for a minute. "I mean, when I was a much younger man, I used to believe in those sorts of things. That ninjas were heroes. That we fought to protect people instead of..." He shrugged. "...instead of doing what we do. I even used to dream about becoming the leader of my tiny village."

He looked back at her. "But we've both seen too much to keep believing in fairy tales. Haven't we?" He faced forward again and quickened his pace. "Let's hurry. Before our friend here starts to spoil."

* * *

The bounty station used a butcher shop as a front. When she saw it through the trees, she realized that it was a place where the body could be kept cool until it was dissected and analyzed.

Kakuzu didn't take her straight in. He stayed inside the treeline and circled around the place, keeping an eye on the sun over their heads and the shadows beneath their feet. She didn't dare ask him why. She kept silent, knowing that if an ambush was coming, it would happen when they left the trees and approached the building.

When Kakuzu found an agreeable spot, he motioned for her to follow him in. She swallowed and made sure her free hand was ready for action.

They were only fifty meters from the door when she saw a kunai stab the ground between them. Her eyes opened wide when she saw that a rope was tied to the handle. They opened wider when she saw that the handle was wrapped in explosive tags.

She leapt to the right while Kakuzu jumped left. She ducked down as she landed, hoping that the corpse's body armor would protect her from the blast.

But the blast never came. When she straightened up, she saw three people standing between them and the door. The first thing she recognized was their headbands, all with the symbol of Konoha. Then she recognized their faces.

The one in the middle was Shikamaru Nara. Three years ago, he was the skinny slacker who used to waste his days at the Ninja Academy staring at the passing clouds. But now, the man standing before her was tall and strong, taut muscles stretched over a lean, erect frame, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. He formed a few handsigns and held the last one.

She looked over to Kakuzu. She was amazed to see him standing absolutely still.

"Seems you learned a few things from last time," said Shikamaru. "You came at midday when the shadows are shortest. That way I'd have a harder time catching you with my Shadow Possession Jutsu." Shikamaru performed a rude gesture and Kakuzu returned exactly the same gesture, as though Shikamaru was forcing the other man to mimic him. "But you didn't realize that I can use other shadows to extend my range. Like the one from the rope."

Sakura noticed a line of shadow that connected Kakuzu's shadow to the thin shadow from the rope tied to the kunai. Another line connected the rope's shadow to Shikamaru's.

Beside Shikamaru was Choji Akimichi, who Sakura remembered as the cowardly little porker whose only desire in life was to stuff food into his fat face. But the Choji facing her now, dressed in the characteristic red armored suit of his clan, seemed to radiate power and confidence.

Kakuzu spoke to him. "Use your head, tubby. Nothing will bring this man back to life. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing. Think about thirty-five million, split between us. That would buy you a whole lot of porkchops, fat boy."

Three years ago. an insult like that would have set Choji off on a tirade, running around the schoolyard like a squealing piglet. Now, he held himself in check, content only to glare at Kakuzu. "We'll die before we let you take him," he said.

"If you prefer," said Kakuzu.

The third ninja, the blond one Sakura that could barely bring herself to look at, was Ino Yamanaka.

There was a time when Ino had been her best friend. When Sakura started at the Ninja Academy, the other girls teased her and she withdrew, letting her bangs hang in front of her face like a pink veil. It was the bold, confident, and beautiful Ino who pierced that veil and brought her out of her shell. In Ino, Sakura saw the things she had once looked for in her father.

But that was before Sasuke. And the bridge.

Kakuzu gave a deep, sinister laugh as he stared at Shikamaru. "If I remember correctly, your limit on this technique is five minutes. And I know you haven't recovered your chakra from yesterday." Kakuzu forced his fist to clench, and then he laughed again. "Whatever your plan is, boy, you better finish it mighty quick."

"We will," said Ino. She formed a strange handsign and aimed it at Sakura.

When Sakura saw nothing happen, she was surprised._ Is that your best move, Ino-chan? _Sakura started to internally mold her chakra. _Well, let me show you a jutsu that's a lot more effective than-_

Sakura froze. She couldn't control her body. It was as if someone was taking her over.

Then she heard Ino's voice in her head. "Put Asuma-sensei down, you _whore_."

_Asuma...sensei?_

"Yes," said Ino's voice. "He was my teacher. And my squad leader. And my hero. Put him down. Now!"

Sakura felt her body lift Asuma's weight from her shoulders and set him gently on the ground. Then she felt herself step away.

"Just because you're willing to sell your own body," said the voice, "doesn't mean I'll let you sell Asuma's."

_Don't accuse me, Ino-chan. You don't know what I've been through._

"Excuses are like assholes, Haruno. Everybody's got one. And they all stink."

Choji formed a set of handsigns and then curled up into a ball. The ball grew larger and rounder, becoming even taller than Kakuzu.

Then she saw the red armored ball start to roll. It came straight toward her, like a juggernaut.

If her eyebrows could move, they would have shot straight up. _We used to be friends._

"You're right," said the voice. "We used to be."

The ball came faster. _This must be your father's Mind-Body Transfer technique. You know, if you're still in me when I get squashed, you'll be killed too._

Sakura heard the voice say, "Asuma died for us." She felt her spine straighten. "And we're ready to do the same for him."

As Sakura counted down the seconds before the ball crushed her, she was unnerved by how she couldn't feel her own fear. Instead, her body was filled with an odd peacefulness, something she hadn't felt since the time when Kakashi was her sensei.

But just before the ball struck, she was surprised to see it knocked to side by a blast of wind. As the ball passed her, she knew it must have came from Kakuzu.

Her body turned to look at her partner. She saw Kakuzu throw off his cloak and tear off his cowl. She was shocked to see that his skin was pale, like that of a corpse, and his flesh was held together by ragged black stitching. On his back were four small masks. stitched into his flesh.

Kakuzu stretched out his arms as he watched the line of shadow retreat toward Shikamaru. "Out of time, little man. Now it's my turn."

Sakura expected to see Kakuzu to form handsigns for his next attack. Instead, she watched two of the masks detach from his back. Black fibers poured out from the holes, which gathered themselves up. They looked like weird creatures with the masks serving as their faces.

Kakuzu smiled as one of the creatures held up its arms and pointed them at Sakura. "First, little lady, let's take care of you."

Sakura watched the creature stretch out its hands. Blueish-white lightning danced across its fingers. Then she felt her eyes open wide as she watched the creature turn and point its arms at Ino.

When she saw Shikamaru dive in front of Ino's limp body, she felt the invading spirit leave her. She was in control of herself again.

As Shikamaru landed, he snatched a blade from his pouch and jabbed it into the damp ground between him and the creature. The blade acted as a lightning rod, sending most of the energy into the ground. The remainder, however, blasted Shikamaru. He cried out in pain as flames erupted from the hole in his combat vest.

Behind her, Sakura heard the armored ball turn and come at her for another strike. She smiled as she turned and gathered her chakra.

_Okay, buta. You asked for it._

She didn't have the time for fancy techniques. She formed the quickest and most reliable jutsu in her arsenal. She pulled a mass of cool, blue energy from the ground, felt it intensify as she made it whirl around her heart, and then she sent it streaking down her arms toward the angry red ball.

_Sorry, Choji-kun, but there can only be one winner and one-_

Nothing happened.

Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. With wide eyes, she formed the handsigns. _Serpent, ox, tiger, and-_

Again, no water came out, apart from a tiny drop of water trickling down her palm.

No time left. All she could do was thrust her arms in front of her to somehow cushion the blow.

But just before it hit, a wad of earth smashed into the red ball, veering it away. It was followed by another and another.

She turned and saw the second creature conjuring balls of soil from the ground below it. It quickened its pace, smashing Choji with an ever-increasing fury.

After a dozen direct hits, the ball rolled unevenly toward Shikamaru and Ino. When it reached them, Choji collapsed into a lumpy pile of red cloth and steel-grey armor.

When Choji rose, he looked as worn-out as Shikamaru and Ino. Sakura watched all three of them fight for breath as they struggled to get on their feet.

"It's over," said Kakuzu. "You're out of time and out of chakra. Unless you want to join your sensei, you'd better stand back and let me conduct my business."

All three ninjas drew their kunai. The handles of each were wrapped in explosive tags.

As Sakura watched, the other two masks detached from Kakuzu's back burst open, and two more creatures emerged from the tangle of black fibers. Together, the four monsters advanced on the exhausted trio. Sakura could sense that one of one of the new creatures was gathering wind energy and the other new one was gathering fire energy. If they struck at the same time, their combined attack would strip the charred flesh from their blackened bones,

"Now!" said Shikamaru. He and his teamates raised their blades and threw them.

At first, Sakura thought they were aiming at Kakuzu. But their kunai didn't strike him or his creatures. Instead, they stabbed into Asuma's corpse.

Together, all three shinobi stood and raised their hands. Simultaneously, each formed the handsign for detonation.

Asuma's body exploded. Chunks of his bloody remains were scattered across the field.

His squad didn't try to run away. They stood their ground and awaited their obvious fate.

What struck Sakura the most was their faces. She could see no fear or regret in their expressions. Rather, each had the same look of inner peace that she had seen in their master's face.

_Asuma died for us. That's what Ino said. And we're ready to do the same for him._

The creatures froze. Then, as quickly as they had formed, they fell apart into black fibers again. Kakuzu's body sucked them up. When they were gone, more black fibers emerged and sewed the masks to his body.

Kakuzu frowned. "In the Hidden Waterfall Village, when we caught fish that were too small to make a meal, the elders told us to throw them back into the river. Wait until they are big enough, they said."

He donned his cloak. "I'm a patient man." Then he pulled at his cowl, trying to get it to fit properly. When he finished, he said, "Someday, I'm certain you three will grow to be very big fish, just like him."

He turned and gestured for Sakura to follow him. As he started to leave, he turned his head slightly and said, "And when you do, I will come for you. I will get my thirty-five million. One way or another."

* * *

They rushed through the forest. Sakura kept one eye on Kakuzu and the other on the woods behind her, searching for signs of the ANBU. She pulled two of the thin blades from the recesses of her kimono and walked with one in each hand. With no jutsu and no sword, these would be her only defense.

As she walked, she grimaced. The sick feelings of shame seized her belly

"I'm sorry," she said.

Kakuzu shrugged. "It was worth a shot. I figured that the sight of an old comrade might make them hesitate a bit." He gave a deep, rumbling laugh. "Instead, I think you made them even more thirsty for blood."

She looked down at her feet. "I don't know what happened. I've never failed to...I mean, I've always been able to..."

"Perhaps you're not like Itachi after all," he said. "Maybe killing your former countrymen is not so easy for you."

Her wide eyes narrowed. "No. That can't be it. Believe me, I've killed plenty of Konoha ninjas. Especially those little bastards from Root. God how I hate those fucking pricks."

Kakuzu's face took on a curious expression. "But you don't hate your friends, do you? The fat one and the shadow man? And the blond girl?"

"No. Of course I don't hate them," she said. "At least not as much as they hate me."

Kakuzu stopped and crossed his arms. "So. Tell me. What element are you? Your natural one, I mean. From the rumors, you're pretty good with all five elements."

Her brow furrowed. "I don't really know. When Zabuza gave a me a piece of chakra paper, I put it between my palms and it got as stiff as a board." She reached into one of the hidden pockets in her sleeve and pulled out the paper square. "He couldn't tell me what it meant."

Kakuzu stared at it for a moment. Then he reached into his cloak and pulled out a square of his own. He flicked the edge of it with his finger. Though it was yellow with age, it was just as stiff as hers.

He leaned toward her. "It's meaning is simple. You _have _no natural element." He leaned further. "You have no capacity whatsoever to function as a ninja."

When he saw the confused stare on her face, he straightened up. "Before the era of the hidden villages, they used to take children like us down to the river. Hold our heads under until the bubbles stopped coming up. Ninja who couldn't perform the elemental techniques had no place in the shinobi world." He sighed. "These days, they teach people like us medical ninjutsu, hoping we'll be less of a burden to them. And if you can't even do that, then they make you a diplomat or some other useless thing."

She shot him an angry glance. "My father is in the Diplomatic Corps."

Kakuzu smiled under his mask. "Then that's where you got it from. You inherited his weakness."

She gritted her teeth. "But that doesn't make sense. I haven't failed once, not since my first day as Zabuza's-" She huffed and gritted her teeth, annoyed at what she almost called herself, "You know, as his apprentice."

He gave her a knowing glance. "But something is different this time. Isn't it? Care to guess what that is?"

When she didn't answer, he continued. "A long time ago, when I was young, I used to be like your three friends. So loyal. So determined. So foolish. I once dreamed of becoming strong, strong enough to become the leader of my tiny village."

He held up his paper square. "But then I got this. And all my dreams evaporated." He groaned softly. "Of course, I didn't really give them up. Deep down, I still believed that somehow I could be a hero to my village." He laughed. "And I was still young enough to believe that ninjas _could _be heroes. Instead of being, well...what we are."

He turned and looked up at the golden rays of sunlight through the trees. "The elders of the Waterfall Village saw that in me. That unshakable belief. That's why they ordered me to kill Hashirama Senju. Your village's First Hokage."

When he watched Sakura's eyebrows shoot up, he laughed out loud. "He wasn't the Hokage then. He was just a young boy, one who liked to play alone on the banks of the Nakano River. Just as I did. Unlike me, of course, his future had promise. Everyone knew how powerful he would become."

He turned back and looked up at the light again. "My mission was to head upstream, following the Nakano, and infiltrate the territory of the Senju. And of the Uchiha, of course, since they also claimed that river as their own."

When he said the word "Uchiha," he looked at her face, studying it, the way a cat studies a bird that is just out of its striking range. But when he didn't see what he was looking for, he frowned and continued. "My disability was to be my advantage, you see. No one would believe that such a powerless boy could be a real shinobi. They would see me as just another civilian. As someone who could never be a threat to anyone."

He sighed. "My mission was to seek out the young prince of the Senju. Play with him. Befriend him. Skip stones across the water with him. Get him to trust me. And when he dropped his guard, that's when I would put my blade in him. That's how I would prove my usefulness as a ninja."

He looked at up the sky again, squinting at the light with his bloodshot eyes. "I did find that boy. And we did skip stones together. And we talked about many things. About our dreams. About the family we had lost. About what it meant to be a hero in this world. And, in some way, we did become friends for a short time. But he never did drop his guard." He winked at her. "Because I wasn't alone, you see. Three platoons of Waterfall shinobi had followed me up the river. He could sense them. And I could not. When they got tired of waiting, they attacked anyway."

He huffed. "It was over in seconds. Never had I seen such power in one so young. The way his fingers formed seals. So quick. So effortless. So powerful. When the last of my countrymen fell, I took out my blade. Even though it was hopeless, I was still prepared to demonstrate my usefulness."

Sakura, who had been staring into the darkness of the woods, glanced over at him. She put her hand on her belly to calm it. "And then what happened?"

He was silent for a long moment. "Even before I knew it, he had snatched the blade from my fingers. Threw it across the water. Told me how sad it was that my village would throw my life away so easily. That someday he would make his own village, a place where no one's children would have to be sacrificed. That I should..." He fell silent again. He looked up at the sunlight streaming through the treetops.

Then he turned from the light and stared into the murky forest ahead. "That I should go home. And find another way to be a hero."

His gaze descended. "And I did go home, of course. Where else could I go? But there was no hero's welcome. They called me a coward and a traitor. Twelve good men died for nothing, said the elders, and I had the nerve to bring my worthless hide back home without even a scratch. They said that letting me live with my shame would be the worst punishment for me."

"Did you find another way?" she said.

Kakuzu crossed his arms. "To be a hero?" He snorted. "There is no way. You know that as well as I do. There is only power. Those who acquire it survive. Those who do not suffer and die. That's all there is to the world of shinobi."

He stretched out his arms. Black fibers snaked from his sleeves. "And for that, for the acquisition of power, I did find other ways. I found I could take the hearts of other men and place them into my own body. To use their power as my own. To assume their elemental natures. In time, even the hearts of the elders became mine to command."

He stepped toward her. "Do you not see it? We are the same. Without my money, without the hearts of other men, I am nothing. And without the jutsu of others, you are nothing."

She shook her head. "But I don't understand. How come I can't-"

He held up his hand to silence her. "What about you is different? What did you possess when you first became Zabuza's little..._apprentice_? And what is it that you lack today?"

She remembered the first day of Zabuza's training. How she kept failing. How she didn't succeed until Zabuza showed her how to manipulate her chakra. _How his hands felt as he rubbed my-_

_No. That wasn't it. In school, I was the best at memorizing handsigns. And manipulating my chakra. But whenever we practiced the basics of the elemental jutsu, I could never get them to work. My teachers kept saying that I'm that I'd grow into it._

Her eyes narrowed. _No. It wasn't Zabuza's instructions. Or his fingers. It's when I imagined that the tree was _him_. That it was-_

Her eyes snapped open.

He looked down into her face. "Yes. That's what is missing. Your _hatred_." He grinned under his mask. "When you summon the dark chakra, you can do anything. Defeat any enemy. Master any jutsu. Acquire any power. But without it, you are just a weak little girl, cowering in the shadows, like a mouse who has fallen into a snake's den and is waiting for the inevitable."

The world around her seemed to spin. "But I can't do that anymore. It's too strong. If I use the dark chakra again, I don't know if I can-"

"I don't know if I can stop it," he said in a hideous falsetto, mocking her. "Weakness! To possess that power and to refuse to use it. That is the only true weakness."

He grabbed her and flung her body to the ground. He fell on top of her, pinning her body down with his weight. She was powerless to stop him.

For a moment, she managed to get one hand free. She stabbed him in the side but he barely took notice of it. More tendrils burst forth, pinning her down even tighter.

His hand reached between her thighs. His motions were clumsy, as though he had no idea how a woman's anatomy was shaped. Once he managed to find her vagina, he crudely drove his fingers into her.

"This is how you make the dark chakra rise, isn't it? You are Zabuza's famous _whore_, are you not?"

When she tried to wriggle out from under him, the dark fibers shot out from the folds of his cloak. They slithered against her skin like snakes, as if searching her flesh. Then they penetrated her skin and drove down down into her belly.

His red eyes rolled upwards as he moaned with pleasure. "That's it. That's the power I've been craving. So good. So sweet. Like black honey." He put his face in hers. "Give it to me. Your hatred. All of it."

She could do nothing but submit to his attack. And to feel the dark chakra rise within her. But even with that power, she couldn't resist. Kakuzu consumed her chakra as fast as she could produce it.

"To hell with Itachi," he said. "I will become your master. When your power takes you over, then I will be there to save you. To feed from your overflowing bounty. Together, we can win any battle. Defeat any enemy. And neither of us will have to be powerless again."

Her eyes searched the trees, desperately hoping the ANBU would show up. Or Asuma's team. Or anyone.

His eyes were filled with an obscene lust. "No one's coming, little girl. It's just you and me. Now give your Daddy what he needs."

Then the wind blew and sunlight broke through the trees, as golden as Ino's hair. And she imagined her father. How his face was the largest on the wall of heroes.

The lust in Kakuzu's eyes faded. "What are you doing? Why are you withholding your energy?"

Inside her, she felt the red flame of her hatred sputter and diminish. Beside it, another flame ignited, as bright and yellow as the sun. And then she felt it grow.

Kakuzu's eyes opened wide with fright. "No. You can't do that." He looked down at the fibers, which turned ashen grey, and then white. And then a bright yellow color began to creep up the fibers, toward Kakuzu.

"No," he said. "I won't let you." He struggled to push himself off of her. It was useless. He felt her hands grab his cloak and pull him back down.

His eyes were wild with fright. "You can't put that feeling into me. You can't. I'm too old. I've seen too much to feel that way again. You-"

Without realizing it, she suddenly found that she was on her feet, holding Kakuzu firmly as he pushed against her and gibbered with fear. She pulled him down, so that she could look into his ugly red eyes.

"My father," she said, her face taking on a stern but peaceful expression, "is not weak. He is strong. He is my hero. And I will not let you take my heroes from me."

With that, she pushed him away. She watched his body fly almost thirty meters before crashing against the trunk of an ancient oak. The impact made the trunk shatter, sending it toppling to the ground with a loud crash.

She came to him and stood with her hands on her hips, her body towering over his. Shards of the four masks on his back lay scattered on the ground behind him, and the torn fibers twitched wildly. The eyes of his now-withered face slowly opened.

"I can't go back," he murmured. "To what I used to-"

His eyes closed and his body went limp. She stood and watched his ragged breathing for a moment.

Then she felt something behind her. But before she could react, she felt the world began to spin around her again. Everything went black and stayed black.


	14. The God and His Angel

**Chapter 14: The God and His Angel**

For three days, Sakura holed herself up in her room. There was no point in to going out anymore. Without the powerful techniques she had copied from Zabuza, her plan was hopeless.

She tried to manipulate her elemental chakra once more. In less than a second, she formed the complex web of seals that made up the Water Dragon Jutsu. In such a wet environment, she should have conjured a dragon strong enough to tear the building apart.

But again, nothing happened. No matter how skillfully she manipulated her elemental chakra, she couldn't project it outside of herself.

She fell back on the bed and she started up at the ceiling. _Is that why Kakashi always used to say that I was the "genjutsu type?" Why he spent all his time training the boys and not me? Did he...know?_

She realized that she wasn't completely out of tricks. She could still create shadow clones, though six copies of nothing was still nothing. The Silent Kill technique, which was actually just a form of genjutsu, still worked but what would she do once she snuck up on her target? Bash their skulls with the dull edge of her broken sword?

She could always accept her fate as being the "genjutsu type." Few regarded it as a true combat skill, though skilled users were granted a bit of respect as support ninja. In the Academy, only Ino had better marks in the illusionary techniques. _But illusions won't help me defeat Sasuke. Not with those damned eyes of his._

And there were a few other spells, such as the Art of the Puppet Master, that she had picked up along the way. But none of them were strong enough to shift the balance in her favor.

Just as she was about to give another long, heavy sigh, she heard something strange at her door. She looked up to see a piece of paper crawl through the space between door and the rough stone floor. Once it was inside, she watched it stand on end.

Her eyebrows raised when she saw that the paper had been folded to look like a little man. They raised further when the tiny man beckoned her with its arm.

When she did not rise from the bed, the boy got down on one knee and silently pleaded for her to come with him. After a minute, it rose and began to make silly dances, stopping every few seconds to wave its arms at the door. Finally, when none of that convinced Sakura to leave her bed, it began to do a slow, sultry striptease, making a great show of removing clothes it did not have.

When it teasingly started to remove its undergarments, that's when it happened. For the first time in three years, Sakura burst out laughing. It was so utterly adorable that she couldn't stop herself. She mopped her face with the back of her hand. It was also the first time in three years that she had allowed tears to run down her face.

The little paper man wasn't so amused. It stood with its hands on its hips and tapped its foot. When it could take no more, it ran to her bed, jumped up on the mattress and used the pointy end of its arm to jab her toe.

Her foot flinched. "Ow!" But even that wasn't enough to get her out of bed.

Finally, the paper man crawled up onto her lap and unfolded himself. She wiped her face again and picked up the paper.

Inside, there was a message which read, "If you are not too busy feeling sorry for yourself, we wish to request your services. Please come immediately to the front entrance for your first assignment." At the bottom, it was signed, "The God of the Rain and his Angel."

* * *

Waiting for her at the front entrance was the Angel herself. Up close, her face was just as dour as Sakura had imagined, but her smooth skin revealed her to be much younger than she had expected, perhaps only in her late twenties or early thirties. Her hair, which Sakura had thought was black, was actually a shade of deep purple, a color not quite as rare as cherry-blossom pink. Unique hair colors were often signs of unique bloodline traits, though Sakura wished that her own family "trait" wasn't so useless.

She wasn't alone. At her side were a dozen Rain shinobi. They all looked ready to fight - when did ninjas ever _not _look ready to fight, Sakura thought - but none of them had weapons or body armor. The only ninja gear she saw were drab standard-issue umbrellas and a few bulky pouches, the type used to carry medical supplies.

The Angel said nothing. She gave Sakura a stern glance, and then she turned and strode out through the front doors. The twelve shinobi did the same, raising their umbrellas as they marched after her into the pouring rain.

The Angel didn't have an umbrella or appear to need one. As she headed east, not only did the townspeople clear from her path, but so did the downpour. Not a single drop of the rain seemed to touch her, and even the splashes from nearby rooftops found other directions to fall in.

Sakura watched the display for a moment and sighed. She unfurled her own umbrella and followed them into dingy grey haze.

As they walked toward the riverfront, Sakura saw others join the parade: men pushing carts stacked with bags of rice and flour and beans, men who carried bushels of vegetables and fruit, women with steaming cauldrons of soup and baskets of freshly-baked bread, and even a pair of strong fellows who manhandled a silver tank marked with the symbol for "milk." As the waterfront came into view, she saw that it was crowded with people, all craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the Angel as she approached

Very few of them had umbrellas. Some held large green leaves over their heads, but most had nothing more than their knarled hands to keep the rain out of their lean, weatherbeaten faces.

Sakura had seen this game before. The "Angel" would stand before her adoring followers, recite her monologue about the glories of her benevolent dictatorship and then, before she distributed the goodies, she would remind them all of the price of betraying that benevolence.

But none of that happened. "The children first," was all she said to the women with the soup and the bread. She didn't need to. Without being told, the mothers in the crowd steered their skinny children to the soup line and then stood aside, eyeing the loaves of bread and waiting until the last of the youngsters had received their food and milk.

Meanwhile, the men of the crowd lined up to receive the bags of rice and flour and beans. None of them, not even the ones at the back of the line, seemed afraid that they wouldn't get their share. The expressions she saw on their faces were blank for the most part. For a few, when their turn came, a look of sick guilt came over their faces. These men would often hesitate for a moment and look back at their families in the bread line. Then they would grit their teeth and throw the heavy sacks across their backs just like the others.

Some people, however, went to stand in a third line, the one where the medical ninjas examined people. Many stood, but some were carried on makeshift stretchers or leaned on the shoulders of others for support

Sakura surveyed the scene for another minute. Then she walked up to the Angel. She glanced up at the darkening sky. "We might have an easier time at this if the man upstairs decided to take the morning off."

"The rain protects us," said the Angel. She nodded at the crowd. "And it especially protects _them_. We're less likely to be attacked when the God of the Rain is watching over us."

"So what should I do?"

The Angel kept watching the crowd. "First and foremost, say nothing. These people are here because they are continually attacked by the remnants of Hanzo's forces. They enter at night, terrorize the people, burn the fields, and then escape across the border to the Lands of Earth and Wind." She cut her eyes at Sakura. "And especially to the Land of Fire."

"Are they looking to get revenge for Hanzo?"

The Angel scowled. "No one loved Hanzo. No one. He ruled by absolute terror. His forces don't fight out of loyalty to him. They all want to _become _him, to become the next in the series of warlords this poor country has endured."

The Angel watched a small boy lean on his crutches as he waited to be seen by the medical ninjas. Her expression hardened. "What they really want is information. They want to find out the true power of the Rain Village and most especially of the Akatsuki. That is why they attack. That is why they torture anyone who might know our secrets. That is why Danzo of the Leaf keeps supplying them with food and weapons." She cut her eyes at Sakura again. "And that is why you will say nothing to them. Because the less they know, the safer they are."

Sakura glanced at the crowd. "So, besides that, what do you want me to do?"

"What _can _you do?" said the Angel. "Besides lay on your bed and feel sorry for yourself?"

Sakura looked over at the men handing out rice and flour, and then at the women doling out soup and bread and milk. Finally, she shrugged and starting walking toward the medical ninjas.

"Not a whole hell of a lot," she said in a dejected voice.

* * *

Sakura's first patient was the small boy on crutches she had seen earlier. His leg was crooked. The bone had obviously been broken and had set in the wrong position.

When the boy saw who his healer would be, he froze in place. His eyes grew wide as he looked her up and down.

She beckoned him to her with his fingers. "It's alright," she said to him. "I won't bite you."

He looked her up and down again. "You promise?"

She painted a smile on her face. "Just get over here, kid. Or I will bite you."

When he laid before her, she sent her chakra into his leg. She could see that she was right. She would have to cut through the bone and set it again in the right position. It seemed like an easy enough task, but she noted that it would not be painless for her patient.

Just as she was about to begin, she glanced at the space between his threadbare trousers and his worn shirt. His skin was marked with scars and burns, some of which were seemed almost as old as he was.

She touched his belly. "Who did this to you?" She felt the dark chakra begin to stir. "You don't have to say who. Just point."

The boy looked up at her face. Then he stretched out his arm. His finger pointed to the east, across the river, toward the faraway hilltops of the Land of Fire. "They come at night. That's why my mother lets me lay down by the fireplace. I can't go to sleep when it's too dark."

For a moment, she stared at the distant hills. Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah. I know those people. They talk a lot about honor and peace and justice. They lie." Her gaze drifted downward. "Most of them, anyway."

Then she looked down into his frightened face. She smiled. "Don't worry, kid. While you're with me, nobody's going to touch you. I will protect you." She looked into his eyes. "I promise."

She felt his tight body start to relax. She didn't know if he was old enough to know about the power of a shinobi's promise or whether he was able to sense that in the sound of her voice. Either way, he was now ready to submit to her treatment.

She didn't tell him how much it would hurt. She had the feeling that he already knew. As she focused her chakra and used it to saw through the bone, he didn't know what bothered her more: that she had to cause him so much pain or that he had learned to endure it so well.

When she was finished, he tried to hop up on his feet. He yelped and stood only on his good leg.

She handed him the crutches. "Let it heal. The bone's in place but the muscles around it will be sore for days."

He sighed and grabbed the crutches. When they were under his arms, he turned to her. "I thought you were a scary lady," he said. "But you're really a nice lady."

"No," she said. "I'm really a _monster_." She made a scary face and started advancing toward him.

He took a step back. Then he made a monster face of his own and gave her a loud, raspy roar. When she made a great show of being frightened, he tilted his head back and roared with laughter. "Thank you, Scary Lady," he said as he hobbled away.

After she watched him go, she turned to the people awaiting treatment. "Who's my next victim?" she said. "Who wants to be _eaten _by the _Scary Lady_?" Immediately, five small boys rushed to stand in front of her. They tried not to grin but failed miserably.

She pointed to the smallest boy. "You!" she said to him. "You look like the tastiest one. Come into my evil lair."

* * *

As the afternoon wore on, the crowd thinned. When the last of the people had set off on the long journey back to their villages, Sakura rose and stretched. The Angel and her parade were returning to the center of the city, and Sakura went to join them.

The Angel cut her eyes at Sakura. "You're not used to working like this. Am I correct?" When Sakura made no reply, she added, "To help people simply because they need help? Without the exchange of money? Or to satisfy your lust for violence?"

Sakura shrugged. "For a moment, I thought you talking about my lousy medical ninjutsu." She grinned. "Or that I was able to perform an entire mission without talking my clothes off."

The Angel's eyes opened wide. "I didn't say that." Her pale cheeks blushed intensely. "I wasn't even thinking it."

When Sakura saw the corner of her mouth twitch, she knew the fish had been hooked. All that remained was to reel it in.

"Technically," said Sakura, "the mission's not quite over yet." Her finger traced the neckline of her kimono. "And I do have a reputation to uphold." Her finger went down to her obi, where it teased the edge. "And you don't fool me, m'lady. You're the one who made that little paper man do a dance for me. So I shall do one for you too."

When Sakura started her dance, the Angel stopped and stared at her with disbelieving eyes. The Rain ninjas on either side averted their gaze, perhaps afraid of what the Angel might do if she caught them peeking.

Sakura went slowly, teasing the Angel as much as she could. When she reached the point of no return, she unfastened the knot of her obi and held her kimono shut with her other hand. She looked the Angel in the eyes, fluttered her eyelashes, and said, "I call this one my _Sexy _Jutsu."

That did it. The Angel erupted with laughter. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her hands covered her mouth.

It took a minute for the Angel to get control of herself. "I can't remember the last time I laughed like that," she said.

Sakura finished fastening her outfit. "Like I said, m'lady, you don't fool me. And I saw how you kept looking at the children when you thought that nobody was watching." She elbowed the Angel's arm. "It's not too late, you know. You're still pretty young."

The joy drained from the Angel's face. "It is too late," she said to Sakura. "Twenty-five years too late." When she saw the confused lok on Sakura's face, she said, "Let's take a walk." She glanced at the Rain ninjas. "Just the two of us."

The ninjas walked several steps behind as the Angel spoke. "My mother did calligraphy and my father made paper by hand. These weren't the most profitable skills in a country as poor as ours, but we were able to put food on the table most nights. That's what attracted the Earth ninjas. I heard my mother scream in the kitchen and then I looked over to see my father fighting off the other one. After they finished with my parents, they cornered me in my father's workshop. What I can remember clearly is my body filling with some kind of dark energy. And then all the paper in the room started flying around. I think the thing that frightened me the most wasn't what I did to their bodies. It was that terrible feeling of..." She leaned toward Sakura and whispered, "...of _pleasure_."

She looked up into the grey sky. "Nagato had the same thing happen to him. Except that it was Konoha ninjas who killed his parents and awoke his Shinobi bloodline traits. Of the three of us, it was Yahiko who was spared that. When he came home, the Sand ninjas had already finished their work. He didn't have Shinobi blood, much less bloodline traits. He tried to fight them, but they just pushed him aside and left with the food."

She sighed. "I guess that's why he always wanted to get stronger and learn to fight. Because he didn't know what it was to _need _violence. Not like me and Nagato."

Sakura stared into the wet pavement. "What do you mean by 'needing' violence?"

The Angel huffed. "You know exactly what I mean. The same need that filled you when you walked into this village. You stank of that need when you stood before us looking like the demon goddess of slaughter herself. Deep down, that need is a part of all Shinobi. You grew up in the ninja villages, surrounded by bloodlust and violence, so that world is all you know." She glanced back at the Rain ninjas. "Like them, this terrible life we lead probably seems..." Her face scrunched up. "..._normal_ to you."

Her hard expression softened but only slightly. "Anyway, it was Yahiko who walked up right to the Sannin and begged them to teach us to fight. Orochimaru, the dark one, wanted to kill us and put us out of our misery." She was silent for a moment, as though wondering that might have been the better choice, "But Jiraiya was the one who took it upon himself to stay and teach us." She looked over at Sakura. "Do you know Jiraiya of the Leaf?"

Sakura scowled. "I met somebody _named _Jiraya once." She pictured the wild hair and leering face of Naruto's teacher. "But he definitely wasn't one of the Legendary Three."

The Angel continued. "That night, we tried to talk Yahiko out of it. Nagato and I told him how ninjutsu changes you. But he didn't care. He wanted to save this country and protect the people. He said he would pay any price." Again she was silent for a moment. "And he did. During our battle with Hanzo, he sacrificed himself to save us."

They had almost reached the front entrance of the Akatsuki's building. The Angel looked up at the top floor. "In many ways, Nagato also died that day. He became something else. That quiet boy with the gentle heart went away. And Pain was born."

"Pain?"

"The God of the Rain. When we get inside, follow me up to the top floor. For the second half of your mission."

* * *

When they reached the top of the stairs, Sakura was not surprised to see the God of the Rain staring through the window at the city below. She was surprised, however, when she saw that there was nothing else up there. There were no tables or chairs or even a bed. "Must not have many visitors," she said.

"There are many who try," he said, still staring. "Most don't make it past the waterfront. Few survive long enough to reach the front doors. And none have made it to the top floor." He glanced back at her. "Without my allowing it."

Sakura could barely see through the dingy windows, and she didn't want to guess how long it had been since anyone had cleaned the dusty floors. She tried to smile. "I'm, uh, quite honored."

"I have requested your presence," he said, "because I wish to engage your services."

Sakura looked him up and down, and then she raised one eyebrow.

He cleared his throat. "What I mean is, I need to ask you some questions. And to recompense you, I will permit you to..." He glanced back at the Angel. "...to ask questions of me as well."

The Angel stepped between them. "Pain!"

He held up his hand to silence her. "Itachi trusts her. And Itachi trusts no one, especially where his little brother is concerned." He then glanced back at Sakura. "Go ahead. Ask me the question you asked Kakuzu four days ago."

The sickness in her stomach returned. If he knew what her question had been, then he certainly knew about her weakness. She took a breath, gritted her teeth, and stood as striaght as she could. "Okay. I'll ask. What's a jinchuuriki? I know it means 'power of the human sacrifice' but..."

He looked up at the cloudy sky. "The first jinchuuriki was the Sage of the Six Paths himself."

She raised her eyebrow again. "And who was the second? The tooth fairy?"

She expected him to turn and yell at her, or at least shoot her an angry look. Instead, he kept watching the rain.

"It's alright," he said. "I didn't believe the stories either. But that was before I came to know the power of these eyes."

When he turned to face her, Sakura nearly gasped. Up close, she could see that his eyes weren't normal. His tiny pupils were surrounded by concentric rings, just like the eyes of the Great Sage in the picture books her father used to read to her. She leaned closer, trying to see if this was some trick.

But when she realized that his eyes were real, she crossed her arms and huffed. _Wonderful. Another pair of magical eyes to deal with. Is there anybody these days who doesn't have some all-powerful doujutsu? _Her steely gaze softened and drifted downwards. _Besides me, of course_.

He motioned for her to join him. He pointed to the north, to the right of the far-off mountaintops of the Land of Earth. "Two thousand years ago," he said, "the Sage was the first to discover the power of ninjutsu. Which he then taught to the bands of mercenaries who called themselves the Shinobi. But the stories never tell us how he obtained these eyes or why, of all people, he chose to share his secrets with the murderous Shinobi, or even why he developed ninjutsu in the first place. So I decided to find my own answers."

He turned to the west and pointed in that direction. "When we started gaining ground against Hanzo's forces in the western provinces, I made sure not to damage any of the libraries or temples we captured. I devoured every document I could get my hands on. But no matter how many of the ancient scrolls I read, I could find nothing else written about the Sage."

He looked over at her. "Nor could I find anything that was written before two thousand years ago."

Her brow furrowed. "So what does that mean?"

He looked to the south. "If you go down the river, you will find places where riverbank seems to follow straight lines. If you dig in these places, you will uncover the foundations of ancient cities. And just above them is always a layer of charred earth and crushed stone. And bones. Many, many bones. Of men and horses, dogs and cats, birds and beasts. All blackened and cracked, like the bones in the ashes of a funeral pyre."

"In fact," he said, turning to her again, "there are ruins like that in every land. The remains of an ancient culture, one more advanced than any which exist today. All utterly destroyed, and all at the same time. Two thousand years ago."

Sakura spotted two figures on one of the rooftops below. Both wore the body armor of the Rain ninja. For a moment, she thought they were fighting but she quickly realized that they were only sparring. One man's flashing blade came too close and blood poured down arm of the other man. The injured man glanced at the gaping wound, switched his kunai to his other hand, and continued to spar.

"Did we do that?" she said, watching the rain wash away the splashes of blood. "The Shinobi?"

He took a breath. "I used to ask that question. But no more."

He pointed to the east, toward the wooded hilltops of the Land of Fire. "There, in the Village Hidden in the Leaves, is the abandoned shrine of the Uchiha clan. Below it, in a secret chamber, is a stone tablet inscribed with the early history of that clan. But to these eyes, a different story is revealed. The story of the ten-tailed beast."

This time, both of her eyebrows raised. "_Ten _tails? But there's only..."

He shook his head. "The Ten-Tails was more powerful than the other nine put together. In a single night, the tablet said, the beast had burned every city on this continent and killed millions. The tablet didn't say where the beast had come from. Perhaps it had risen up from the depths of the sea, or fallen from the vast reaches of outer space. Perhaps it was one of the primordial forces that created this world.

Sakura glanced at the two sparring men again. The injured man began to wobble from the loss of blood. "Or maybe the Sage summoned the beast and couldn't figure out how to send it back."

Pain's face had a faraway look for a moment, as though he was weighing the possibility. Then he shrugged. "In any case, even the Great Sage could not withstand its fury. In the end, he did the only thing he could. He separated the beast's spirit from its body and then imprisoned its foul chakra inside himself."

He turned to her. "Of course, that could only be a temporary solution. Eventually, the Sage would die and the beast's hateful spirit would be released, free to rejoin its body and renew the destruction. So he used the power of the Ten-Tails to seal up it's body and cast it to the heavens where it was out of reach. Thus the moon was created."

She crossed her arms. "That's kind of pushing it a bit."

He returned the window and stared out at the rain. "I am only telling you what I had read. And since it takes someone with these eyes to read that story, it can only have been written by the hand of the Sage himself. In any case, the danger was not over. The beast's chakra was too strong. Once released, it might use that power to form a new body. So the last act of the Sage was to split that chakra into nine pieces and release it. Thus, the nine tailed beasts were formed."

He glanced at her. "And you believe in those, don't you?"

She scowled at him. "Of course I do. The Nine-Tailed Fox attacked my village when I was six months old. Nearly stepped on my parent's house. If the Fourth Hokage hadn't stopped it, we would have all been killed."

She stepped toward the window and looked east, toward the place she once called home. The demon fox had attacked on the tenth of October, a time when the village would have been ablaze with the orange and gold of the autumn leaves. She hated the lies and hypocrisy of Konoha, but it was these few simple things - the golden light of summer, the turning of the leaves in fall, and the return of the cherry blossoms in the spring - that still bound her heart to that place.

Her eyes opened a little wider. She suddenly realized something that should have been obvious. Naruto was born on the tenth of October. Given his age, he must have been born on the day of the attack. Naruto survived. His mother didn't. She sighed. _Poor Naruto. To start from absolutely nothing. To grow up alone, hated by everyone. And to still believe in them. In their lies, when they themselves don't believe their oh-so-noble words._

As she thought that, she could feel the dark chakra begin to stir in her belly. She took a breath and stared out at the rain to calm herself. _At least he'll never know what this feels like. To have a dark power inside you, constantly waiting for its chance to take control. If I surrender myself to it, I can defeat any enemy. At the cost of my humanity._

She looked down and watched the rainwater flow down the wet streets and disappear into the dank sewers. _And without it, I am nothing._

"If the Sage was the first," she said, still staring down, "then who are the other jinchuuriki?"

He stood beside her and watched the streets below, but instead of watching the gutter, his eyes focused on the parade of brightly-colored umbrellas and the people who carried them. "When they were released, the nine mindless beasts went out into the wild. Whenever men dared to gather in great numbers, the beasts would invariably return to sate their appetite for destruction. Thus began the nineteen hundred years of darkness known as the Era of Warring States. A thousand ninja clans fought and died for the sake of a hundred feudal lords, all seeking to dominate the others."

"But then the Senjuu and the Uchiha clans joined forces," said Sakura. "They created the Leaf Village, helped the daimyo take over what is now the Land of Fire, and ended the Warring States."

He huffed. "That is what the schoolbooks say. But there is a lot more to it than that. What really ended the dark ages was the taking of the tailed beasts. Madara Uchiha had the power to summon the Nine-Tailed Fox and Hashirama Senju had the power to control it. Together, they used the beast to track down and capture the other eight. Then they started making deals. The clans that joined together and formed their own hidden villages would receive one of the tailed beasts as a peace offering."

"An offering?" she said. "How can you cage up monsters like that?" Then her shoulders dropped and eyes opened wide. She put her hand on her belly to calm it. "Oh God."

"Quite correct," said Pain. "The Whirlpool Village recreated the jutsu which sealed the Ten-Tails. They used it to lock the power of the beasts into the bodies of nine living human sacrifices. Of nine _children_. That is the answer to your question."

Outside, Sakura watched the injured sparring partner drop to his knee. When he tried to stand up again, he collapsed to the wet rooftop. The other man stood above him, ready to strike.

Then lightning flashed and a loud boom of thunnder shook the building. Both Shinobi looked up to see Pain pointing down at them. The one who was standing sheathed his blade, yanked a rag from his back pocket, and began to bind the other man's wound.

Pain lowered his arm. "It was supposed to bring peace to the Shinobi world. When everyone had their own monster, no village would dare attack another. And with the beasts under control, men were once again free to travel and build and create."

He spread out his arms. "This city was built to celebrate that new world. It was a place where the magic of our world could combine with the technology of the outside world. A place where all men, Shinobi and civilian, could live together in peace."

He scowled. "As you can see, that never came to pass. For the first few years, everything was fine. The steam generators in the basement lit the first electric lights on our side of the planet. In time, they would have powered the factories that were meant to propel us into the modern world. But it all fell apart. The Shinobi of the Rain began to divide themselves into groups. They hurled baseless accusations at each other. Soon, the streets began to erupt with violence. And that violence spread out from the city like a virus, leaping across our borders into the Lands of Earth and Fire and Wind. Thus began the First Shinobi World War."

She looked over at him. "Sounds like Hidan's story."

He returned her glance. "And not without reason." He crossed his arms. "Tell me then. In your schoolbooks, what did they say about the First Shinobi War? Why did it begin?"

"That's easy," she said. "The Land of Earth sent its ninjas into the Land of Grass and then they attacked the Land of Fire."

"But _why _did they do it? What did your books say about that? What did they hope to gain?"

She shrugged. The books gave detailed descriptions of the major battles, and the tactics that were used, and the names that were added to the Memorial Stone. But she couldn't recall seeing anything about the reasons for fighting.

"If you ask the ninjas of the Land of Earth, you will hear quite a different story. It was Konoha that invaded the Land of Rain and launched attacks into the Land of Earth. In the Land of Wind, they say that Fire and Earth worked together to take over the Land of Rivers. All lies. All meant to disguise the real reason for the war. No one fought over territory or resources or ideologies. They fought simply to satisfy their need to fight."

"I don't understand."

He stepped toward her. "Yes you do. You of all people should understand the hatred that's within us. The madness that infected the people of Hidan's village has consumed every Shinobi that dared to cast aside his kunai and follow the path of peace." He took another step. "The same madness that rages inside you."

He stood straight and his unblinking gaze grew more intense. "Now that I have answered your question, you will answer mine. How did you turn back the madness?" He came closer, until his head towered above hers. "What is the source of your power?"

She looked up at him. Then her eyes turned away. "You're asking the wrong person. I don't have any power."

His voice grew more frantic. "These eyes saw it happen. You slipped away into the darkness and then you pulled yourself back into the light. No one in history has done this. You must tell me. Now." When she did not answer, he continued. "It isn't just your future in the balance. It's everyone's."

The Angel stepped forward. "Pain!"

Again, he held up his hand to silence her. "When the First Shinobi War ended, many warlords fought for control of this country. The winner was the worst of them all: Hanzo the Salamander. True, he was able to keep the peace, but only through absolute terror. Anyone who stood against him was killed. Along with their families and friends."

He turned and walked to the window again, looking down at the parade of umbrellas in the streets. "I have always fought to protect the people of this poor country. And they will never know peace until the rest of the Shinobi world does. With the power of the jinchuuriki, I could force them to stop fighting. All who oppose me would be crushed without mercy." He turned his head to glance back at Sakura. "The ultimate irony, is it not?. To defeat Hanzo and his legacy, I must become Hanzo."

He turned back to the window. "But even that will not last forever. In time, I wil die. Eventually, the Akatsuki will lose control of the tailed beasts and another series of wars will tear this land apart."

Then, in a low voice, he said, "However, there is a more final solution. I could use the combined power of the beasts to-"

"Pain!" said the Angel. "Not another word!"

This time he remained silent. He still looked downward, but his eyes didn't follow the people anymore. He stared into the blank pavement with a worried expression on his face.

After a minute, he turned to Sakura again. "In you, I have seen a third path. If you can hold the madness at bay, then perhaps peace - real peace - is not impossible. I must know how you did it. What is the source of your power?"

She turned away. She wasn't sure how she had done it, either with Deidara or Kakuzu. Those episodes had been a blur. All she could remember was losing herself to the darkness and then somehow finding the light again.

"I don't remember," she said. "When I think back, all I see in my head are images. Of my father. Of the little boy that Sasuke used to be." She stood up straight. "Of wanting to protect him. How that was the most important thing in the world."

She turned to face the God of the Rain. "And that's it. We are Shinobi. We always know what we're fighting against. We're good at that. But we almost never know what we're fighting _for_." Her back straightened. "For me, it's my plan." She imagined it for a moment and smiled. "And don't ask me what that is. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I don't understand," he said.

"You don't have to understand." She stood in front of the God and his Angel. "Just for a moment, both of you picture the person that means the most to you. And I don't mean the person you hate the most. I mean the person who truly represents your hope for the future."

As Sakura studied their faces, she saw the God's eyes flicker toward the Angel and the Angel's eyes flicker toward the God.

She tried not to smile. "Let me show you," she said. She extended her left hand. "M'lady, may I have your hand for a moment?"

The Angel stared at Sakura's upturned palm for a moment. Then she stepped over and put her hand on Sakura's.

Sakura extended her right hand. "And now you, m'lord."

Pain's brow furrowed. "You do not command a god."

She extended her hand again. "Then stop being a god for a minute and give me your damned hand."

He looked at her face and then at her hand and then back at her face. Finally, he reached over and put his hand on Sakura's.

"Okay," she said. "Next step." She pulled the two hands together, putting the Angel's hand in Pain's.

He yanked his hand away. "No! You can't make her do that." He shook his head. "She's been through too much already."

Sakura turned to the Angel. "Take his hand," she said. She smiled. "Because it really isn't too late."

The color drained from the Angel's face. But then, a few moments later, she smiled and blushed. She reached over and took Pain's hand.

This time, it was Pain's pale face that lost all color. When the Angel stepped toward her, he stepped back.

Sakura saw that even though he backed away from her, he didn't let go of her hand. With a soft but firm voice, she said, "Now kiss her."

His eyes went wide with fright, and opened wider when the Angel came closer, putting her body next to his. "Wait," he said. Before we, uh... Before..uh..." He balled his hands into fists. "When you look at me, who do you see? Me? Or him?" He paused for a moment. "Yahiko."

She opened her eyes and started straight into his. "Both. I see the both of you. I always have."

"Which one of us do you, uh..." He looked at the floor for a moment. Then he forced his spine to straighten. "Who do you _love_?"

She smiled at him and shook her head. "I love...everyone. Everybody in this world. Every single person. Sometimes I love them so much it hurts." She stood up straight. "If you want to know what hurts me the most, it's knowing that you're always alone. Always in pain. Never eating. Never sleeping. And that I can never do anything to help you."

When he opened his mouth to object, she held up her hand to silence him. "If you care about how I feel, then let me help you. Let me ease your pain, if only a little." She stepped closer to him, putting her body against his. "And maybe you can ease mine as well."

He stared into her soft eyes. Then he leaned toward her. And then he kissed her.

Sakura stood and watched them for a moment. From their awkward motions, it was obvious that this was probably the first time either had been kissed. But the passion she saw in those motions was equally as obvious.

Then she felt something wet on her shoulder. It was a drop of water. Then she felt another.

Suddenly, the entire room was filled with rain. The downpour fell from the ceiling, flooding the floor and rinsing the grime from the dirty windows and floors.

And then, when she turned back to the God and his Angel, she saw that they were drenched with rain. The more passionately they kissed, the harder the rain poured on them.

The still air began to swirl, spinning around them like a hurricane. As the rain saturated their black robes, she saw that the weight of it was pulling them down. When she saw the Angel's robe begin to slip from her shoulder, Sakura turned and hurried down the flooded stairs as fast as she could without slipping.

Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard the Angel cry out. Then she saw the flash of lightning and felt the boom of thunder shake the building to its foundations.

But the lightning revealed something else. She saw a masked figure standing on the ground floor, looking up at the deluge. As she came closer, she saw that it was Tobi, the grooves on his mask channeling the water away from his single eye. To Sakura, it seemed as though his mask was crying.

He was silent until she passed by him. Then, in his sing-song voice, he said, "What will you do now, Haruno-sama? Now that your future seems to be slipping away from you."

He lowered his head and aimed his eyehole at her. "Begging you pardon, m'lady, but there's been talk that you can't do your jutsus anymore. Not the good ones, anyway. How are you going to kill Itachi's brother if you can't-"

"I'm not going to kill him," she said. "I made a promise not to do that. And I'm not giving up, either. Somehow, I'll find a way to defeat him."

He opened his arms. "I wish I could help you, Haruno-sama. But me and Mister Zetsu don't have any jutsus. Nothing you're able to learn, anyway. And that only leaves Kisame." When she made no reply, he added, "He could certainly help you. He's one of the seven sword guys from the Mist and he's supposed to be as strong as one of the tailed beasts. But he hates you, He told me that if you utter one word to him, he'll forget Itachi and tear you apart with his bare hands."

She looked up at the falling rain for a long moment. When she heard the Angel cry out again, she turned and walked back to her room

"Maybe Itachi was right," she said to him over her shoulder. "Maybe I just need to defeat him the same way I defeated Zabuza."


	15. Kisame

**Chapter 15: Kisame**

Kisame yawned and stretched as he climbed the stairs to the sixth floor. The taking of the Eight-Tails had been damned hard. Its jinchuuriki had managed to tame the beast inside him and use its power freely. Subduing the monster without killing its host took nearly everything he had.

His frustration made him groan. If it had't been for Itachi's help, he might not have survived. He and Itachi had never really been friends, or were even that friendly to each other, but even Kisame had to admit that they worked well together. He found comfort in Itachi's cruel, calculating manner. Whenever Kisame's boat was lost in the stormy seas of his anger, Itachi's stone-cold expression, like a lighthouse beacon in the dark, kept guiding him back to shore.

He knew he should have gone to bed. But after sitting in the same position for the last three days to seal away the beast's chakra, his aching body needed exercise, not more rest.

When he finished climbing the last flight of steps, he saw her. The pink-haired girl. Itachi's pet whore. She was kneeling beside the door to his private dojo. At first, he thought she was waiting to be let in to clean the place up. Then he spotted the long wooden box beside her.

He shook his head as he stared at it. The handle of Kubikiribocho, the Executioner's Blade, stuck out from a hole on the end.

"Let me guess," he said. "You want me to teach you how to use that thing." He pointed his thumb at the huge sword on his back. "Or maybe you think you've got the balls to take Samehada from me." He flashed her a sneering grin and used his other hand to cup his crotch. "Or maybe it's _my_ balls you want."

When she said nothing, the grin disappeared. "Either way, you're stupid." He gave his crotch a squeeze. "Even if you chose _this _sword, you wouldn't have lasted more than a minute."

When she did nothing but look up at him, he was surprised. He certainly didn't expect her to beg and plead; rather, he expected her to attack. He had seen her face when she first walked into the building. Back then, she looked like a demon from hell, enveloped by a black cloud of hate and bloodlust. A rabid dog, just like her former master, Zabuza.

"Whores are useless to me. And Itachi knows that." He walked past her. "Go away. Whatever it is you came for, you won't get it from me," he said before closing the door behind him.

* * *

Inside his dojo, Kisame unstrapped Samehada and carefully set it on the weapons rack. The time to train with it would come later. First came the conditioning exercises. Of the Seven Swordsmen of his generation, he figured he was the only one who still upheld this tradition.

His rack held the many training swords he had collected over the years. Some were as light as a regular battle sword but most were much heavier. All of them, however, had the same finely-tuned balance as their sharp-edged counterparts.

He bypassed these and selected his new favorite, a long, crooked iron bar, scavenged from the tool room in the basement. It was ugly and ungainly and had the balance of a drunken sailor. He held it for a moment, assessing its massive, unweildy heft. Then he began to swing it back and forth.

"Just put a little chakra into it," he said with a sneering voice as he swung the bar faster. That seemed to be the answer to everything nowadays. Do it the quick way. Do it the soft way. Why discipline yourself?

After thirty minutes, he started to feel the burn in his arms and hips. His nostrils flared as he tried to suck in more air. He glanced over at Samehada. "That's what happens...when you don't keep up...keep up with your training."

When an hour had passed, he stopped and changed his grip. He began to practice the beginning sword forms his master had been taught him nearly twenty years before. With his training swords, these forms were child's play. With the bar, it was definitely a challenge.

"But that's why it's so good," he said to Samehada. WIth such an ungainly tool, it took an incredible amount of concentration and effort to do the forms perfectly. When he finished the elementary forms, he smiled, changed his grip, and re-did them with the opposite hand.

It took him another hour to finish the advanced forms. By then, the gnawing ache in his arms had spread to his back and legs. Despite that, he had refused to expend any chakra to aid his training.

"And that's what the others could never understand," he said to Samahada as he reached for its handle. That being one of the Seven was never about learning to wield the sword. It was about turning your own self into a weapon. Forging your body with fire and battle, quenching it with sweat and blood, and tempering it with absolute discipline. About honing the blade of your soul and keeping its edge true. That was the highest form of swordsmanship.

He grinned as he finally put aside the bar and grabbed the handle of Samehada. It felt alive in his hand. Despite its considerable weight, its fine balance made the blade seem light and quick. Truly, he thought, Samehada was the king of all swords.

He started again with the elementary forms. His muscles still ached from the iron bar, but that was a good thing. Exercise, he knew, was never about making your body stong. It was about driving it hard enough to make it weak. Then, as it recovered, the body rebuilt itself, strengthening the parts that had been weakened the most.

That, he had always known, was what it meant to be a true Shinobi. To strengthen yourself by targeting and eliminating weakness and stupidity. In yourself and in those around you.

And that perfectly summed up the girl who had prostrated herself next to his door. Instead of seeking his strength, she should have spent her time eliminating her own weaknesses. She should have tried to educate herself rather than beg him for tutelage the way a starving dog begs for tablescraps.

Still, he admitted, she was the student of Zabuza, the butcher of the Mist. With a brutal, uncultured animal like that as a sensei, why should he expect any more from her than that?

He wasn't ready to leave the dojo until after the mid-day bell had rung. As he reached for the handle of the door, he stopped and yawned and stretched his aching muscles. He wondered if he should bother to fill his empty belly or if he should just flop himself on his bed and sleep.

When he finally did open the door and step out, his eyes opened wide. The girl was still there, kneeling next to the doorway.

If she hadn't been Itachi's pet whore, he might have grabbed her by her pretty pink hair and thrown her over the railing, a punishment his old master used to refer to as, "giving someone a flying lesson." As a boy, in the days before he realized the true value of discipline, his master had given him an extensive education on the art of human flight.

Instead, he just looked down on her and her ridiculous sword-in-a-box, and shook his head. He sneered and waved his rough blue fingers at the box. "Go ahead. Open it up. Let me gaze upon this great flower of the swordmaker's art."

When he saw what was inside, he didn't know if he should laugh or cry. The Executioner's Blade was never an elegant weapon. It was a butcher's cleaver, fit only for hacking through meat and bone. But to see it like this, hewn and severed like its many victims, wasn't simply a cruel irony. It was a sad joke, an insult to all those who had been honored to wield the Seven.

He pointed to the nearly-straight cut through it, just above the guard, and made a slashing motion with his finger that paralleled the cut. "A Kusanagi blade. Not the real Kusanagi, of course, but an imitation." When he saw that he had the stupid girl's attention, he said, "It was just a blade like any other. But your opponent sent lightning-natured chakra down it, making it vibrate at a high frequency. Like that, it can cut through nearly anything, though it's probably more accurate to say that it _saws _through."

Again, she said nothing, not even to acknowledge the scraps of information he had thrown to her. Perhaps she truly was mute. But it was more likely that she had never been taught proper manners.

He flicked his fingers. "Put it away. Just...put it away. I never want to see that again." As he started to descend the stairs, he glanced over his shoulder. "And don't come back. Or I'll beat you like the dog you are."

* * *

The next morning, Kisame made sure to bring his gloves. He slapped them against the railing as he climbed the stairs. He had forgotten what kind of animal provided the leather, and he didn't care. All he knew was that the gloves were supple enough to let his fingers work yet thick enough to provide a measure of protection.

Of course the girl was there. For all he knew, she might have been there all night, kneeling beside his door to put on some show of subservience. He spoke to her as he put on the gloves. "Whatever you're after, girl, you won't get it from me. You'd better be gone before I finish putting these on." When she did nothing, he said, "If you don't move your ass, I'll move it for you."

Again, she said nothing. No pleading, no begging, no useless list of excuses. Part of him was grateful for her silence - what a paradise this world would be if more people followed her example! - but this continued refusal to acknowledge him really made his blood boil.

"Stand up," he said. When she did, his eyes narrowed. _This _command she would obey! Was she so supremely stupid that she knew how to do nothing else?

He tightened his fist and listened of the creak of his glove's leather. He looked into her dull eyes, searching for some sign of the monster he had seen at Itachi's side. Never before had he felt such a strong aura of hate. Only the two jinchuuriki he had taken down possessed auras as dark as that. Now, there seemed to be no trace of it.

He sneered at her as he looked her up and down. He heard the rumors that she lost her jutsu along wth that dark power. Perhaps she was looking for an excuse to unleash her hatred. If so, the next few minutes would make an interesting diversion.

He smacked her face. Hard, though not hard enough to break the jawbone. The blow made her fall to the side.

He stared at her face, waiting to see if she would erupt with tears or with anger. But when he watched her get back on her feet and plaster the same dog-stupid look on her idiotic face, his sneer went away. Her bashed her face again.

This time she stayed down for nearly half a minute before getting up on her feet again. Her face was a mess. Dark bruises were beginning to form under her skin of her cheek. Blood dripped from her swelling lips. And still those fucking eyes, as dead and glassy as a doll's eyes. And that goddamned silence.

He grabbed her hair at the base of her skull and lifted her up until her feet dangled. He wanted to toss her over the railing and watch her plummet to the ground. To see if she would finally acknowledge him in her last moments of life, or if she would still be wearing that impassive expression when she kissed the concrete.

But he was supposed to keep her alive. Only God knew why. God and Itachi.

Instead, he turned and threw her against the wall. Her skull smacked the concrete with a sickening thud, followed by another thud as her limp body fell to the floor.

This time, he saw the blood run freely from her smashed nose and from the cuts on her lips and cheeks. But her face was just as unmoved as those carved above the shitty little village she came from. Her eyelids flickered and drooped and then finally closed.

He stood for a minute and watched the bubbles of blood and mucus form on her nostril everytime she exhaled. Then he stripped off his blood-stained gloves and went inside to practice.

When he came out just after noon, he wasn't surprised to see her back on her knees. What did surprise him was that she had cleaned everything up so well. All of the blood was gone. Her bruises had diminished, and her lip was not as swollen as he had expected. Then he remembered hearing that she had some skill with medical ninjutsu. She had probably expended a good bit of chakra to repair her face.

He toyed with the idea of putting his gloves back on. Then he simply stepped forward and kicked her in the face. "Don't come back here," he said. "It'll just be more of the same. Every fucking time."

She did came back, of course, and she kept coming back every morning after that. At first there was some pleasure to be had in punishing her simple-mindedness. But as the days became weeks, the anger that her passivity aroused became harder to control.

He tried new ways to hurt her. Slamming her face into the railing, cutting her pale skin with his kunai, punching her ribs until he felt them crack. And every time, he would emerge from the dojo to find her on her knees again, the blood cleaned up, her body partially healed, ready for more.

"Stop coming here!" he said to her one morning. "There's _nothing _for you here. Just pain and more pain. Is that what you want?" When she again said nothing, he felt his blood boil. "I kill people. Even girls. Girls like you. That's what I do. That's _all _I do. I was born a monster. A killer." He put his face in hers. "I even killed my own mother. Did you know that? That's the kind of monster I am." When even this failed to get a reaction from her, he said, "How do expect to kill Itachi's brother when you're as stupid as this?"

Then he felt it. A wave of hate, like the darkness of hell itself, spreading out from the girl's belly. For the first time, she looked directly at him. There was a fire in those green eyes, like those of the Goddess of War herself. Before he realized it, he had taken a step back from her.

And then it was over. The wave diminished and faded away. Her expression softened and the look of blank stupidity came back.

And then she leaned forward, bowing to him. And when she straightened up, she smiled at him.

She _smiled_!

He kicked her. Hard. Hard enough that he felt her shoulder dislocate. And even though she laid there like a broken and discarded doll, she still smiled at him.

He slammed the dojo door behind him. He tossed Samehada onto the rack and grabbed the iron bar. For a good five minutes, he stood and stared out of the window, gripping the bar so tightly that he felt the metal start to bend under his fingers. He wanted the take the bar and smash the glass with it. Or to smash her insipid face.

But such a display would betray the discipline required of one of the Seven.

He took a breath. And then another. "Discipline," he said to Samehada. "Discipline is what separates man from the animals. Stupid animals like her." He began to swing the bar as tradition demanded, fighting his impulse to strike something with it. "It is what separates men from beasts, and ninjas from men, and the Seven from ordinary ninjas. My master told me that once." He put on a sneering grin. "I guess it's good that he forgot his own words, or you and I might not be together."

When he left that day, he brushed her aside, refusing to acknowledge her presence. And for a week after that, he strode past her as she knelt, saying nothing.

One morning, he stopped and stood before her. He commanded her to rise and she obeyed. He looked into her dull eyes. In a soft but stern voice, he said, "I truly have nothing to offer you. Whatsoever. You'll never be strong enough to take Samehada from me. And you know that. It's pointless to even consider it. And if you're trying to seduce me somehow, then..."

He looked at the wall for a moment before he spoke again. "Give me your hand." When she did, he swiped the tip of his blue finger across the back of it. Drops of blood rose from her skin. "You see? It's useless. If I were to take you as a lover, it would kill you. My rough skin would tear you to shreds. You'd bleed to death. Is that what you want?"

She stared at his chest for a moment, her expression even blanker than usual. It was if the wheels of her tiny mind had finally begun to turn. Then she looked at the back of her hand, watching the drops of blood run down her fingers. Then she looked into his eyes. And gave him the same dumb smile as before.

He grabbed her head and slammed it into the wall. Her face left a trail of blood on the wall as she sank to the floor.

It took all he had not to pummel her into hamburger. "You _mock _me? You continue to mock me? Even after I stoop to speak to you like an equal, like you actually belong here? Like you could actually be one of the Seven? You're just a stupid little cocksucker who got lucky, just like Zabuza was."

Inside the dojo, he fumed as he stared out of the window. "Where are you, Itachi?" he said under his breath. He needed some of Itachi's stone-cold manner right now. His dark, unblinking eyes were like a lighthouse beacon in the dark, always guiding him home.

The girl, of course, was even more inscrutable and laconic than Itachi ever was. But Itachi's coolness was born from his absolute competance. Apart from the God of the Rain, Itachi was the last person on earth he would dare to tangle with. The girl, on the other hand, was just a worthless hack. A common whore. A thief. Everything she had was stolen from others.

_Fuck this shit. I'm going to end it. Right now._

He burst through the door and faced her. "Hey. Girl. You want in? Then come on in. Right now."

When she closed the door behind her, he pointed to Samehada. "You want my sword? You really want it?" When she made no reaction, he gritted his teeth. "Then take it." She didn't move. "Go on! Pick it up." He spread out his arms, exposing his chest. "This is your big chance. If you can kill me, then it's yours. All yours."

When she again did not move, he grabbed Samahada from the rack and tossed it to her, handle-first. Stupidly, she reached out and caught it.

Spikes erupted from the handle, piercing her hand. Even Little Miss Too-Cool-For-School couldn't resist sucking in her breath as the pain hit. And then her body started shaking.

He gave her a sneering grin. "Gotta warn you, though. Samehada loves to eat chakra. And yours seems to be mighty tasty."

She took a step toward him. As she did, she began to swing the sword back.

His grin faded. "Let go of that thing, idiot, before it sucks you dry."

She didn't. She took another step, putting her body close to his. Then she swung the sword all the way back.

If she was one of the Seven, he might have started to worry. But she wasn't. She was just a skinny punk, a common street whore, just as Zabuza had once been. A worthless animal.

When she began to move, he lifted his arm to block her impotent strike. But that strike never came. The girl fell to one knee and held up the sword's handle.

It took him a moment to realize that she was offering him the sword. He stared at her for a moment, watching her body shake and shiver.

Then, as the last of her strength had faded and she began to collapse, he snatched the sword from her hand. When he did, the spikes retracted and disappeared.

He stood over her limp body. He thought he would be glad to see her sprawled out before him, drained of all her chakra. But he was still troubled by the senselessness of her final gesture.

"What were you trying to prove?" he said to her. "That you're tougher than me? That you'd make a worthy disciple for me? That you didn't want my sword? Either way, you were a fool. And I have no stomach for fools."

Her breathing was shaky. She didn't have enough chakra to survive.

Under his breath, he said, "And damn you too, Itachi. You killed your whole clan but you wouldn't kill her. Why did you let her live? Why did you send her to me? Is this some sort of bizarre punishment for her? Or is it me you're testing?"

He gave a long, heavy sigh. "And until I find out which..."

He waved Samehada over the girl's body, and commanded the sword to return some of her chakra. Samahada resisted at first. Apparently, it liked the flavor of the girl's energy. That surprised him, since it hated consuming the foul, dark chakra of the tailed beasts.

The girl began to breathe normally. And Kisame turned and started his training.

* * *

For three days, her body stayed crumpled on the concrete floor while he practiced. Her unconscious acquiescence was refreshing.

In a way, it was nice having her here. He never had visitors. None of the Akatsuki had ever asked to watch him train or to spar with him. To be honest, swordsmanship was never a popular art among the Shinobi. Most preferred the convenience of kunai. Easily obtained, easily lost. The discipline that the sword demanded belonged to another era.

"It would be amusing to see how well you'd do," he said to her comatose body as he stepped over it. He put away the iron bar on the rack and picked up Samehada. "But even if you had _this _and I fought you with the broken remains of your own sword, you still wouldn't be a challenge."

He stepped over her again as he walked to the center of the dojo to practice the forms. Before he did, he looked back and watched her breathe. Her kimono rose and fell more with a slow, steady rhythm. Her skin, which had always been quite pale, had regained its former color.

For a moment, he traced the gentle curves of her body with his eyes. He breathed in, assessing her scent. With her eyes closed, she looked almost...intelligent.

When he was in the fourteenth year of his life, he had a dream like this. A girl, lying on a bed. His hands, as smooth and pink as everybody else's. The way her skin felt. The taste of her kiss. The way her eyes half-closed with pleasure.

When he awoke, his covers were wet. The master was not pleased. Not one bit. After rubbing his face in the mess, the way one does with a poorly-trained dog. the master grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and gave him a flying lesson from the third-floor window. He spent the rest of the day standing in the courtyard, holding up the covers for the amusement of the other students while he loudly recited the sutras of discipline.

He never dreamed of that again. He devoted his energies properly. He surpassed the other students and finally defeated even his master, who was once the greatest of the Seven. And over each of their graves, he read the sutras of discipline. So that even in the afterlife, they would know exactly why they had lost to him.

On the morning of the fourth day, he walked in to find her on her knees, next to the weapons rack. Her long wooden box - Kubikiribocho's coffin, as he had come to call it - was on the floor beside her.

He shook his head. "Forget it, girl. I don't take disciples." He gave her a sneering grin. "I only take heads."

She didn't react. She remained kneeling until after the noon bell rang. When he finished the advanced forms and reached behind him to attach Samehada to his holding strap, she sprang up and grabbed the iron bar. She faced him, holding the bar in the first of the elementary stances.

He gritted his pointed teeth. Idiot! That stance wasn't used for fighting. It was only good for training. Yet she stood there as though she was challenging him to the death.

He pulled Samehada from the strap and stood in a low stance with the blade off to the side. If he attacked from this position, there was only one reasonable defense. To his amazement, she didn't adjust her stance or change her grip.

He thought that this might be some trap, some way to lure him into a tricky reversal. The corner of his lip curled. This might be interesting.

He attacked, He swung the sword exactly the way he had been taught years ago. He expected her to bring up the bar to parry him.

She didn't. She thrust the bar in front of her like a rank amatuer and closed her eyes. Fool! No wonder she had lost the Executioner's Blade.

She opened her eyes when she realized that the bar had somehow stopped his sword. Then her eyes opened wider when she saw the blood drip from the cuts on her hands and forearms.

He reached back and attached Samehada to its strap. "You don't parry a sword like this, girl. Any more than you can parry a Kusanagi sword. The Kusanagi will cut right through your blade. And Samehada? He shaves. He shaves off your skin just like he can shave off your chakra. The only defense against it is to dodge the strike. When it comes for you, get your ass out of the way."

He put his snarling face in hers. "Learn. Or suffer. You choose which." He glanced down at the drops of blood staining the floor. He walked past her. "And get this shit cleaned up."

Then he felt it again. The dark, hellish energy. He stopped. On his back, he could feel Samehada writhe with unease.

And then it diminished. He turned to face the girl.

She smiled at him. And then she bowed.

He bared his teeth at her stupid grin. And then he stormed out of the door, slamming it behind him.

* * *

For several days after, things went exactly the same. She would wait until he had finished his forms. Then she grabbed the bar and launched another of her ineffectual attacks.

It was hard to believe that Zabuza had fallen to such a worthless creature. She fought as though she had seen a sword before. And each time, he made sure to make her defeat was more humiliating than the day before.

One day, as he finished his forms and watched the girl spring up again, he simply stared at her. "Stop. Just stop. I can't take this anymore."

She leapt forward, jabbing the bar into his abdomen. But her attack was so pathetically weak that it didn't hurt him at all.

"I can't do this. Day after day. The same thing. Hurting you over and over. Watching you bleed. And for what? What good is this doing?"

She spun and launched another attack, slamming the bar into his deltoid muscles. He barely noticed it.

"I can do nothing for you. Can't you see that? I am a killer. Not a teacher, not a mentor, not an instructor. I kill and that's it. That's all I'm good for. I can't give you anything other than pain and suffering. Is that why you come here? Again and again?"

She swung the bar at his head. He easily caught it with his hand. Then he wrenched it from her grasp and threw it across the room.

"Please. Stop. I can't keep doing this." He looked down at the floor for a moment. "I can do nothing but kill. That's all. When I was born, my rough skin tore my mother's insides to shreds. She was dead before I took my first breath. And since then, I've been raised to be the only thing I _can _be. A weapon. There can be no other life for me."

He took a heavy breath. "My master. The one who had Samehada before me. He's the one who showed me what the Shinobi world is all about. I was assigned to guard a bunch of code-breakers. To keep them from falling into enemy hands." He turned and looked out of the window at the cloudy skies. "They were nice guys. Told jokes. Told stories. Passed the bottle around. I guess it's because they didn't know me. Or what I was trained to be." He smiled. "They treated me like I was any other Shinobi of the Mist. Like...one of the guys."

The smile disappeared. "The enemy attacked. Four platoons. And these guys were code-breakers, not combat types. They barely knew which end of the kunai to hold. My master told me that if I got into a situation like that, then I had to protect the village's secrets. I had to-" He took another breath. "I did it as quickly as I could. One slice, right between the third and fourth vertebrae. Like turning off a light switch. By the time the enemy entered the camp, there was no one left to capture. Except me, of course."

He glanced back to see if she was still listening. "After I escaped, I found out that my master was a double agent. He sold me out. All to feed his appetites. He was hoping I would be killed in the attack. He could see that I was starting to surpass him." His eyes narrowed. "But he trained me too well. That's the day all of my discipline paid off. The day I eliminated my master's weakness. The day I claimed Samehada for my own."

He held up the weapon and stared at it. "We're a lot alike, him and I. We're just weapons, living only for next battle. Nothing more."

He reached back and attached Samehada to its strap. "Don't come back. Not until you're ready to fight me like one of the Seven." He walked past her. "And if you can defeat me I'll even give you my blade. If he'll accept you, that is. I'll give you anything you want." He turned to her and sneered, cupping his crotch with his hand. "I'll even give you _this_ sword, if that's what you want." The sneer left his face. "But even you aren't that stupid."

* * *

For the next three days, he did not see her. He climbed the stairs at the same time as always but she wasn't there, either sitting outside the dojo or waiting for him inside.

That first afternoon, when he emerged from his dojo, he was relieved when he saw that her skinny ass wasn't parked on the landing. He smiled, descended the stairs and didn't give it a second thought.

When he stepped out of his door on the second day, he went to the edge of the landing and leaned against the rail. He couldn't see her, not on the ground below or on any of the floors. When he looked up at the top floor, all he could see was the orange-haired God of the Rain. He watched the God look over his shoulder at him. Kisame opened his mouth, preparing to ask about the girl, but he stopped himself. He grunted and thrust his hands into the pockets of his robe. "Doesn't matter where she is," he said to Samehada as he clomped down the stairs. "Just as long as she's gone."

On the third day, leaned on the railing again and remained there for a long time, listening the the dim patter of rain against the walls. He sighed and looked up at the dim light of the sky through the top-floor windows. "Has it always been this quiet in here?" he asked Samehada. "And this gray?"

He huffed and pulled himself away. "Doesn't matter. She's gone. She was stupid to come here in the first place. Stupid little..._whore_." He plastered a sneering grin on his face and turned his head until he could see Samehada out of the corner of his eye. "Maybe she finally started doing her real job. You think?" He stopped for a moment and pictured her, surrounded by Rain ninjas. They threw money at her feet as she danced for them. They shamelessly howled with lust as they watched her. Then they began pawing at her slender body, putting their hands wherever they wished, whispering in her ears, telling her the things they wanted her to do. The things they were paying her to do for them.

He was surprised when he heard an odd groan. He shook his head and looked around trying to see what it had come from. Then he realized what it was. He had gripped the handrail too tightly and the metal had started to buckle. When he took his hand away, he could see indentations from his fingers.

"Stupidity!" he shouted. "I can't stand stupid things. Stupid people." He took a long, heavy breath and blew it out. "Where are you, Itachi?" he said under his breath. "When I need you most, why are you here the least?"

His apartment was on the fourth floor but when he arrived at the fourth-floor landing, he kept going down the stairs. The girl's room was on the ground floor. He stood outside of her door, and debated on whether or not to knock on it.

Then, beyond the door, he heard the girl, breathing hard. His brow furrowed as he imagined her, submitting herself, slaking the thirsts of men who saw no value in holding back their desires.

Then he heard the swish of a sword. And then the sound of her bare feet against the gray stone floor.

_Is she...practicing? And with what? Where did she get another sword from?_

Then the sound of her feet stopped. Her breathing became measured, as though she was...listening?

He turned and crept up the stairs. He huffed. He had wasted too much time on this already. There is no cure for stupidity. And all the practice in the world won't change that.

* * *

On the fourth day, he entered the dojo to find her standing before the weapons rack, holding her box. There was something different about her. Her hair was tied back and the floppy sleeves of her kimono were tied against her arms to keep them in place. More striking was her demeanor. She stood tall and confident, like a warrior. And her dog-stupid look had disappeared, replaced by cold, cruel, knowing eyes.

He watched her set the box on the floor and open it. Because of the lid, he couldn't see what was inside, but it couldn't have been much different that what he'd seen before.

She peered inside it for a moment. Then a determined look came over her face. She closed the lid and fastened the latches. Then she sprang up and grabbed the iron bar.

He pulled Samehada from the strap and stood before her. This was what he was waiting for. He understood why she had humiliated herself before him so many times. It was the dark chakra. Now she was angry enough to summon that wretched power.

It all made sense. That was how she had defeated Zabuza. She was useless with the sword. But with that dark power, she could overcome her weakness and defeat him. And now she was finally ready to unleash it again.

He gave her a sneering grin. She was still a fool. Samehada hated that dark chakra. He would never accept her as its master. And even if she could summon enough power to defeat him, victory would still elude an animal like her.

But he didn't feel the dark chakra. He felt another power, like golden light, fill her belly. And even though he stood nearly a meter taller than her, he suddenly felt dwarfed by her power.

She attacked, jabbing the blunt tip at his chest. He leaned back to dodge the strike and simultaneously brought up Samehada to counterattack. Instead of bring the bar down to parry, she thrust it upwards. She let go, and the bar hung in the air while she ducked under his blade.

He knew that she would have to come back up to grab the bar so he yanked Samehada back to block her. What he didn't expect was that she would slam her body into the side of his knee. Her skinny body could never knock him over, but he was surprised when it impact forced him to shift his balance. He glanced down to see what other mischief she was intending. As he did, he saw the end of the bar come down between his arms. Distracted by that, he couldn't see her reach up and grab the end of the bar. Before he knew what happened, he felt her bring the bar forward against Samehada's handle.

It all happened so fast. Before he could do anything to stop it, he felt Samahada being wrested from his grasp. He watched it skitter across the floor.

_Did she...defeat me?_

She sauntered over to Samehada. She set down the bar and held her palm over the handle.

He cocked his head and waited for the spikes to pierce her flesh. There was no way his blade would accept her.

He watched her slowly bring hand closer to the sword. If anything, he felt her odd chakra grow stronger. And then he saw her gently stroke the handle, the way a lover might touch the body of her beloved.

After a minute, she grabbed the sword and held it aloft. Samehada did not strike her down. If anything, Kisame felt his blade purr with delight at her touch.

He cocked his head back. What he saw was impossible. His discipline had been broken by the most undisciplined person alive. If she was to strike him down with his own sword, then it would be a fitting punishment for his weakness.

But she did not do that. Instead, she walked over to the weapons rack and rested Samehada on it. She turned to him. And then she bowed. And then she smiled.

His heart raced. His head swam. Nothing made sense anymore. "What do you want?" he said. "Why are you doing all this? If you won't take my sword and you won't take my head, then-"

She stepped toward him. He felt the strange chakra grow stronger. She looked up, into his dark, brutal eyes. And then she reached forward and gently touched his chest. Her hand stroked his body through his robe, just as it had stroked Samehada.

He was powerless to stop her. Never in his life had he been touched so gently. Not even as a baby, when the women from the prison held him in their gloved arms, suckling him as they cursed his name, nourishing him with their milk and their blood and their bitter hatred.

His body drank in her touch, the way the desert sands drank the rain. With the gentlest push, she brought him to his knees, and then guided him onto his back.

He couldn't resist her, even as she parted his robe and shoved aside his fundoshi, freeing his maleness. He was hard, and all the discipline in the world could not have made him otherwise.

"The gloves," he said in a weak voice. "In my room. Fourth floor. They're..."

She swang her leg over him, putting her hips over his. She reached between her legs and took his flesh in her warm hand. The pleasure off this simple act make him suck in his breath.

He felt something dripping onto his belly. When he looked, he saw a thin line of clear fluid running from the tip of his cock, announcing his shameless desire. As it ran, it mixed with the blood from her palm.

She looked into his eyes. And then she lowered her hips, enveloping his flesh within hers.

He tried to warn her but his mouth could not form the words. The pleasure overwhelmed him. The warmth of her body. The scent of her flesh. Even the brilliance of her chakra. Drawing him in from the stormy seas of his heart. Like a lighthouse beacon in the darkest night.

He could not last. It took less than a minute for him to erupt, and when he did, he couldn't help but to cry out.

When he regained control of himself, he looked into her face. She smiled at him. He smiled back. She bowed to him. But she did not rise.

He pulled her body away from his. She was bleeding. Badly. In a minute, she would die.

He leapt to his feet and threw her body over his shoulder. He burst from the room and leapt from the landing, using his chakra to jump up to the seventh floor, the eighth floor, and then to the top.

He ran to the God of the Rain. "Fix her! I know you can fix people. So fix her."

The Angel watched the blood pour down her legs and down the front of his robe. "What did you do?"

He bared his pointed teeth. "Doesn't matter. If it's money you want, I'll pay it. If you want my sword, take it. if you need my life in trade, then...then take it. Just fix her."

The Angel scowled at him. "Leave her here. We'll do what we can. And go." When he didn't move, she shouted, "Go!"

He sat on the eigth floor landing and stared blanky at the walls of the atrium. He was still sitting there when the supper bell rang at six and when the midnight bell tolled to signal the changing of the guard.

He awoke the next morning when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was the Angel, who looked down on him with tired eyes. "She will live. Her condition is stable. We moved her down to her room an hour ago. She needs fluids and rest. Her internal organs are..." She waved her fingers in a circle as she tried to find the right word. "...functional." Her eyes narrowed. "What ever you two were doing, I would not advise doing it again. I was barely able to save her."

He rose and stood upright on the landing. This time, he looked down on her. "Don't worry. It will never happen again. I'll make sure of that."

* * *

Downstairs, he stood by her bed, watching her chest rise and fall. An IV bag was connected to her arm, and paper seals printed with incantations bound her waist.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm sorry," he said. "I allowed myself to forget who I was. To forget my discipline. This is exactly what happens when you let things slip. The whole world falls apart."

His hand formed a fist and he looked straight at the wall. "I am not a man. I am a weapon. I was born to be a weapon, a killing tool, and that is my only possible role in this life. You are here because I allowed myself to dream of being something I'm not. And can never be."

He looked down at her face, preparing himself for the final goodbye. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that her eyes were open and she was looking up at his face

He frowned at her. "This is over. No more. I don't know what you want or why you keep coming back to me. And I'm tired of putting up with this." He tapped his fist against his leg. "Everything you've done so far is senseless. Stupid." He leaned toward her. "And I will not tolerate stupidity. Not in myself and not in the people around me. And that's why I came here. Because these are the least stupid people I've ever met. Especially Itachi."

He brought his knee forward and shoved her bed. "Why did Itachi let you live? Was it to torment me? To see how much I could take before I went crazy and killed you? To see if I was worthy to be his partner?" He shoved the bed again, further this time. "Tell me!"

She looked up at him. And she smiled.

He opened his mouth and roared at her. The echoes of it reverberated through the building. Then he straightened his spine. "Discipline. That's what separates you and me." He shot her a sneering grin. "Thank you for reminding me that."

He opened the door. Before he left he turned his head enough to glance at her from the corner of his eye. "When you're well enough, come pick up your little sword coffin. Zabuza probably didn't tell you, but there's a trick to repairing the blade. I'll show you that trick, and then it's over." He turned to face her. "After that, if I ever see your skinny little ass again, I'll forget my promise to Itachi. And I will kill you."

* * *

He stormed up the stairs to his dojo. He slammed the door behind him. The floor was a mess of dried blood. He huffed. "At least she alway cleaned up after herself. Looks like I'll have to do it this time. If I never see her again, it will be worth it.

He turned to look at her long wooden box. Just for shits and grins, he decided to open it and remind himself of the price of discarding discipline. He sneered at the box as he undid the latches. The forces that allowed this sword to be broken, if permitted to continue, would eventually destroy the entire-

He froze. His eyes opened wide, unable to believe what he could clearly see.

Inside, the Executioner's Blade was whole and complete. The edge was keen and bright, and the blade itself shone like finely-polished silver.

His hands shook as he took up the weapon. This could not have been the same blade. The sword he had known in his youth was an ugly, dismal tool, fit only for slaughtering pigs, or men who were no better than pigs. It was a dingy gray color, like dishwater, and it _stank _of murder. Of the chakra of all the worthless, shameless, and brutal savages who contributed their foul blood to reinforce its steel.

This sword he held today was exactly the opposite. It was sharp and quick and exquisitely beautiful. It had the same heft as before but it felt light in his hand. It practically begged him to use it, to thrust and to parry and to hear it swish through the air. To dance with it.

There could be only one answer to this riddle. Only blood could restore the sword. Specifically, it was the iron in human blood that the sword craved. The thing that made it one of the Seven was its inexhaustibility. The more bodies it severed, the more blood it drank, and the quicker it restored its keen, cruel edge.

His smile evaporated when he realized where all of that blood had come from. It certainly explained how she had been able to clean up the mess everyday. He sighed. What that why she came up here, provoking me? So she could keep making donations to her little blood bank?

_So stupid. Why didn't she just go out in the woods and chop up some of Hanzo's lackeys?_

But the simplicity of that answer bothered him. Itachi never did anything without reason. So why did he spare the life of such a stupid girl?

And a foul one at that. When she strode in here at Itachi's side, she stank of murder and hatred, even more than her blade did. Her chakra was almost as foul as those of the beasts he was sent to capture. When she lost her jutsu, did she also lose her-

_No. I did feet it. That hatred. When I mentioned Itachi's brother. The one she wanted to-_

The realization hit him like a tidal wave. He nearly dropped the sword.

But he didn't. Instead, he ran his hand along the flat of the blade, searching it for any sign of the dark chakra. Except for the part near the guard, the part which still remained from Zabuza's broken blade, he could sense nothing but a warm, bright chakra. In his heart, it seemed as bright and as golden as the summer sun.

He turned to Samahada, still waiting patiently on the rack. "She didn't come here to learn how to wield the sword. She already knew how. She didn't even come to reforge her sword. She came to..." He pictured her, invoking his anger, infuriating him, absorbing his cruelty, letting it crash down on her like the waves crashing upon the rocks.

"She came to reforge _herself_. She came to see how much she could take without making her dark chakra rise." He shook his head. "Zabuza. What you must have put that girl through to make her hate you so much. When I beat her, I wonder whose face she saw? Mine or yours?"

This, indeed, was the highest level of swordsmanship. To forge your body with fire and battle, to quench it with blood and sweat, and to temper it with absolute discipline. To hone the blade of your soul and to keep its edge true. That is why she came to me.

Then he looked down at the sword and smiled. He couldn't help it. He swung the beautiful blade through the air, marveling at its superb balance.

He glanced at Samehada. "Don't look at me like that, old friend. No need to be jealous. You will always be the king of swords." He brought the blade down, slicing through the air. Then he looked into the polished surface of the blade and studied his reflection in it. In a soft voice, he said, "But perhaps, at long last, I have found your queen."

* * *

The next morning, he wasn't surprised to see her in the dojo, kneeling beside his weapons rack, despite doctor's orders, and his threats of pain and death. Of course she was there. How could he expect anything else from one of the Seven?

She smiled at him and bowed down. He knelt in front of her and bowed lower, touching his forehead to the concrete floor. "I would be honored," he said, "if you would train with me this morning."

When they straightened up, he was glad to see knowing eyes: cold and clear and deliciously cruel. When she reached over to her box and opened it to reveal her beautiful blade, he held up his hand. "Let me give that a try." He pointed his thumb to Samehada. "And I'll let you give that one a go."

She gave him a suspicious look and closed her box.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, "I know. You're not supposed to let anyone else take your sword. Without killing you, of course." He cocked his head back. "But swords can be exchanged between masters and disciples, can't they? Otherwise, how could anyone pass on the secrets of the blade?"

She handed him the Executioner's Blade. It was just as deadly and quick as he remembered. It practically begged him to carry it into combat, to face a thousand worthy foes, and to defeat them utterly.

She went to the rack and took up Samehada. First, she gently stroked his handle. Then, when she had gained its trust, she seized the handle with a grip of iron and held it up.

They faced each other on the concrete floor. And then they began the elementary forms, first with the right hand, and then with the left. When they finished the advanced forms, they faced each other again to start the sparring

He gave her a sneering grin. "I know what Zabuza's last words to you were. He told you he loved you. Didn't he?"

She bowed her head slightly. Then she raised Samehada for her first attack.

"Yes."

He raised the Executioner's Blade, preparing for his counterattack. His grin grew into a sardonic smile. "Then I won't make the same mistake."


	16. The Plan Comes to Fruition

**The Plan Cones to Fruition**

* * *

When Sakura heard the news, she burst through the doors of the dojo. She flew to the stairs and then leapt over the railing. She used her chakra to run down the wall toward the group of people waiting below.

Pain was at the center of the group, surrounded by the Angel, Deidara, Hidan and Kakuzu. When Sakura landed in front of him, he stared at her with troubled eyes. Then he glanced up at Kisame, who was using his chakra to follow her as fast as he could.

"Is it true?" she said.

Pain waited until Kisame had joined them. "Yes. It is true. Itachi was confronted by his younger brother Sasuke." Pain looked down at the floor. "And our comrade, the pillar of our hopes for peace in this world, was defeated. A tragic loss."

"Two fucking weeks ago!" said Hidan. "And the little shit killed Orochimaru last month. And we're only hearing about it _now_?:"

Kakuzu groaned. "I thought Zetsu was supposed to be keeping an eye on him."

"Two eyes," said the Angel. "And Tobi was shadowing him as well."

Hidan looked around and scowled. "And where are the hell those two jackoffs? Never here when you need them. Last time I saw either one of their asses was..." His eyes opened wider. "...two weeks ago."

Deidara brushed the wild strands of hair from his sweaty face. He had obviously just flown in. "And the story goes downhill from there. Danzo, the Fifth Hokage, was making one of his little field trips to see Hanzo's men. When he got to their camp, all he found was a pile of dead ninjas. And Sasuke standing on top of it."

"Who won?" said Kisame. He flashed a sneering grin. "Or maybe they did us a favor and killed each other."

"Sasuke," said Deidara. "But Danzo didn't make it easy for him. Somehow, the old guy could use wood-style ninjutsu, just like the First Hokage. And I watched him die, like, five or six times in a row. Every time I thought the fight was over, he would get up and smile, like nothing fucking happened."

Pain's brow furrowed. "When Danzo finally lost, what happened to his body?"

Deidara smiled. "It's gone. Danzo did some weird jutsu that sucked everything into it. Except Sasuke, of course."

The tension in Pain's face seemed to lessen, but only slightly. "Good. It would seem that Danzo had acquired the powers of both the Senju and the Uchiha. Either he was trying to obtain enough power to defeat us..." In a low voice, he said, "...or he was trying to beat us to our goal."

"Why?" said the Angel. "Why did Sasuke go after the Hokage? He should have returned to his village after getting his revenge. That was the plan."

Sakura's wide eyes turned to the Angel. "The plan?"

"Itachi was a double agent," said Pain. "And I know this because he told me he was. When the Nine-Tails attacked your village, many in the Hokage's inner circle remembered that Madara Uchiha had the power to summon the beast. No one openly blamed the Uchiha, but the whispers never went away. After seven years of mistrust, the leaders of that clan were preparing to launch a coup d'etat. Itachi was ordered to stop it. By slaughtering his own clan."

Pain turned and looked out through the front entrance at the faroff hilltops. "He could have defied Danzo's orders and fought alongside his clan. But he knew that Konoha's civil war would spread, igniting yet another Shinobi war, more terrible than the ones before it. So he followed his orders. Then he left the Leaf, branding himself a criminal, all so that he could infiltrate our ranks and spy on us. But when he discovered our true purpose, he stopped being Danzo's agent and became ours."

Pain turned to face Sakura again. A tear ran from his eye. "His commitment to peace humbles me. His loss is a blow to us all."

Sakura's brow furred deeper. "And you knew about that? That he wanted Sasuke to become strong enough to defeat him?"

The Angel stepped forward. "Itachi was convinced that his younger brother would surpass him as a agent for peace. Don't ask me why. From what I've seen, his lust for revenge has turned him into an irredeemable monster. Much like, well..." The Angel could no longer look Sakura straight in the eye.

Deidara jabbed his thumb at the front entrance. "You got the monster part right. After he finished with the old man, he made a beeline for the Leaf Village, killing everything that got in his way. He had this kind-of dark..._feeling_..around him. Actually, it was a lot like, uh..." His eyes flitted toward Sakura. "Well, y'know."

Pain thought for a minute. Then he opened his eyes and stood up straight. "This could only have happened if Sasuke was told about Danzo's treachery. And where to find him. And how to defeat him. There's only one person who could do that."

The Angel's eyes flew open. "If that's true, then..." She turned to Pain. "What do we do now?"

He thought for another moment. Then he looked at Sakura. "With Itachi's death, your bondage to him has ended. You are free to go. I must assume that you will try to defeat Sasuke. If so, I will have Deidara fly you to intercept him."

"Hold on," said Kakuzu. "You're trying to _save _the Leaf Village?"

Pain shot him a very angry look. "Know this. I have long desired to destroy Konoha. To topple their towers, to smash their walls, and to rip those smug faces from the mountainside. To share with them the pain my people have known for so many decades." He looked to the east again. "But now is not the time. Sasuke's revenge will only spark the war that Itachi sacrificed himself to prevent."

Then he turned to Sakura. "Itachi never stopped believing in his brother, even as he watched him slide into darkness. He believed in you, too. In this mysterious plan of yours. When you first stood before me, I thought his trust was extremely misguided. But now..."

"Let me go with her," said Kisame. "At least until the drop-off."

Pain looked up into the eyes of the shark-man, as if searching for the source of the pleading in his voice. "Go. But then come right back. There is much to do."

Then he looked into Sakura's eyes. "I'm only allowing this because you've changed so much since you've been here." He put his arm around the shoulders of the Angel, who snuggled next to him, seeking his warmth. "And so have we all."

* * *

"This is madness," said Kisame, trying to talk above the roar of the wind. He looked over the side of the clay bird. Far below, he saw the blazing ruins of the insurgent's camp. "If that boy could defeat Itachi and the Fifth Hokage, then you don't have a chance."

Sakura, sitting in front of him, said nothing. She leaned forward. With her eyes, she followed the trail of destruction that led to the east, toward Konoha.

"Listen," he said. "Itachi's eyes had two powers. One was Tsukuyomi, which you've already seen. How the hell you survived _that_, I'll never know. The other is Amaterasu. He was able to burn anything he could see with black flames. Wouldn't go out, either, until its target was completely burned away. He told me there was a third power, an ultimate defense that nothing could penetrate, not even ninjutsu. Never got to see it, though. If Sasuke's eyes have the same power, then there's no way you can defeat him."

All she did in response was to spur the bird faster.

He looked down at her bags. "You sure you can handle this? All the equipment in the world isn't going to help you much." He leaned forward. "I know you're set on doing this yourself. Let me help you. Please."

She kept her eyes locked onto the end of the trail.

He groaned with frustration. "Is there nothing I can do to help you?"

She kept watching the horizon for a moment. Then she turned to him. And then she smiled.

* * *

Sakura prepared the battlefield as best she could. On the flight, her mind sorted through everything she had seen and heard, and she concocted a plan from those scraps of information. If she had more time, she could have come up with a better backup plan. But she knew it wouldn't have done any good. If what she had wasn't enough, she wouldn't survive long enough to regret it.

Just as she finished putting the last of her equipment in place, she felt it. A dark feeling of dread, approaching from the west. Like a hole in the fabric of the universe, sucking the life from everything around it. Like a demon, possessed by an unquenchable lust for blood.

_So that's what I feel like. When it happens._

She formed the handsigns for her first jutsu. And then she waited for him to arrive.

* * *

Sasuke Uchiha crashed through the forest. He was headed east, toward the village that killed his people and betrayed his brother. The village of his enemies.

As he stepped into a clearing, he felt that something wasn't right. The energy here was...different. Then his eyes locked onto the body of a girl, one who wore a white kimono and had a gigantic sword strapped to her back. He recognized her. She was from the village. And her fate would be no different.

She crossed her arms and clicked her tongue. "Looking at you, Sasuke, is like looking in a mirror. I remember when I used to be like you. Filled with hate. Ready to trade my soul for revenge."

"And you," he said through clenched teeth, "are still in my way."

She looked down her nose at him. "But I'm not here to kill you. I promised Naruto that I wouldn't do that. And I always keep my promises."

"Then you're a fool," he said as he drew his sword. "Because when I'm finished with you, I'm going to kill everyone in the Leaf Village. Every single person."

He sent lighting chakra into his blade and charged toward her. As he ran, he watched her grab her sword and prepare to parry his strike. That would be her last mistake.

But when he swung the sword, he felt no resistance. She pulled her body back and his sword hit nothing but air. Before he could bring back his arm for his second strike, he felt something hit the back of his pelvis. The blow ruined his balance and sent him lurching forward.

_Did she use the flat of her blade to...to _spank _me?_

He spun about to launch his next attack. When he did, he saw her smiling at him.

He roared with anger and swung the sword diagonally, cutting her torso from shoulder to hip. At least that's what he thought he was doing. He was surprised when she ducked under his swung.

He slashed at her face, but she pulled her head back just enough for his swing to miss. As she did, he felt the flat of her blade slap his cheek.

"Discipline," he heard her say. "That's what separates you and me. I have mastered my hate, and you are still a slave to it."

He swung again, stepping further to foil her attempts to dodge him. This time, she came in toward him and slammed the flat of her sword against his forearm. The Kusanagi sword fell from his grasp. Worse, he felt blood drip from the back of his hand. The sharp edge of the sword had made a shallow cut on his skin.

She held her sword aloft and watched the thin red line of his blood drip down the edge. She gave him in irritating smile. "And with that, Sasuke-kun, your defeat cannot be avoided."

He shot toward her, thrusting with the tip of her sword. Despite her attempts to dodge it, his sword impaled her belly, just as he had done in the cave.

She writhed with agony. Her pathetic moans made him smile. He could have immediately cut her in half. Instead, he raised his head to show her his Sharingan eyes.

"I can't believe that I need these eyes to defeat someone as weak as you."

He watched her for a moment, taking pleasure in her agony. Then he noticed that no blood was pouring from her wound. And he couldn't see the flow of her chakra.

He looked up to see her smiling at him. Her body wasn't shaking any more. And then, behind her body, he saw strings of chakra, leading into the woods.

He kicked her, sending her body flying backwards and her sword crashing against the ground. "Do you think I'm a fool?" he cried. "You think I can't see that you're a puppet?" He grinned and charged into the woods. "Or that I can't see where the strings lead to?"

The look of surprise on her face was priceless. Without her sword, nothing could stop his blade from slicing through the girl's body. His teeth chattered with murderous glee as he watched the two halves of her body separate and fall and...disappear?

"Where are you!" he shouted. "The real you? Are you too much of a coward to fight me yourself?"

When he heard nothing, he said, "Why are you trying to protect those bastards? The ones who ordered your death?" His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. "The village that ordered my brother to kill my entire clan? And then suffer as an outcast?" He looked about, trying to sense her. "I made Danzo tell me the truth. That they forced Itachi to kill my parents. To kill everyone I ever cared about." He bared his teeth. "And now I will kill them. All of them."

"Don't get me wrong," her voice said. "I'm nobody's white knight. Frankly, I wouldn't care if you burnt the whole goddamned village to the ground. They probably deserve it."

From the corner of his eye, he saw something move. It was her, foolishly exposing her position.

"But if you attack the village, Naruto will try to stop you. And either you kill him, or he kills you. Either way, my promise is broken." She looked right at him. "Because that's what I promised Naruto. That I will not allow my comrades to die."

He sprang up and charged toward her. He made it look as though he was going to use his sword to chop her again. Instead, he let go of the sword and formed a series of handsigns. A moment later he breathed out an enormous fireball, which engulfed the girl's body. For a moment, she screamed in agony. And then, as before, she disappeared.

She emerged from behind another tree. "But don't think I've forgiven you, Sasuke. I made another promise. To myself. That I would fuck you. Just like you fucked me." She took a step toward him. "Zabuza was right, wasn't he? You're the kind who fucks because you're always afraid of being fucked. Isn't that right, Sasuke-kun? Well, I'm going to teach you what that's like. I'm going to _educate _you."

He roared with anger and rocketed to her. He rammed his fist into her chest, crushing her sternum. Again, the girl disappeared.

"You're running out of clones!" he screamed. Inside him, the dark power begged to be unleaashed. He let his control slip a little more. His lips curled with pleasure as the rush of power filled him.

Then he sent that black energy to his eyes. He felt his iris shift and transform, just as it had during his battle with Danzo. It was the Mangekyo Sharingan, the kaliedoscope eye, that emerged after he killed his brother.

"Where are you?" he bellowed.

"Over here," she said. She was standing a little more than fifty meters from him, near her discarded puppet. He squinted at her. Instead of the foul black chakra she had before, he saw a different energy flowing within her. Before he could ask her if she was the real one, he saw her move her fingers. Her puppet leapt up and ran toward him.

He smiled, eager to show her his new trick. He focused his left eye upon the puppet and activated his jutsu.

The puppet erupted with black flames. He grinned when he saw it fall to the ground. Nothing but the hand of God could extinguish those flames

He looked over at the girl. He was confused when he saw her smiling as well. Then he saw her form the handsign for detonation.

The puppet exploded, knocking him to the ground. When he looked up, he saw that the black flames were scattered in every direction. It took him a moment to realize that some of those flames had been scattered on _him_.

He rushed to strip off his burning clothes. The shirt came off easily but the pants took some tricky work to remove without getting any of the flames on his skin.

From the high pitch and the sharp _crack _of the detonation, it wasn't simply gunpowder. The entire puppet must have been made from a plastic explosive.

He jumped up, and shouted at her, too angry to cover his nakedness. "What the hell was that little stunt supposed to do?"

Through the flames, he watched her saunter over to her discarded sword. "It was supposed to get you away from _this_," he heard her say as she picked it up.

She gave him an evil grin. "Among other things." Then she licked his blood his blood from the edge of the blade. "And now my victory is complete."

* * *

Sakura put down the Executioner's Blade and grabbed the bag that she had hidden. Inside were an IV bag filled with clear fluid and a tiny syringe. The sryinge was filled with Hidan's blood, which she had carefully preserved. If she was lucky, a good number of his blood cells were still active.

She jabbed the syringe into bag and injected its contents. Then she performed the handsigns for Kabuto's blood-cloning jutsu. Her heart raced as she watched the clear fluid turn red.

She yanked the syringe downward, tearing a hole in the side of the IV bag. She then used that hole to squirt blood onto the ground, drawing a triangle inscribed by a circle.

She peered at him through the black flames. She needed to finish this quickly. It was taking everything she had to keep her hate from rising. "You took everything from me, Sasuke. My home, my village, my family. And my faith in humanity. And now it's payback time."

"I don't understand," he said in a voice not entirely his own.

"Of course you don't," she said. "If you the slightest capabilty to understand this, then we wouldn't be here. We'd still be Team Seven, and Kakashi-sensei would still be alive, and I wouldn't have been-"

She stopped speaking. Her words, and the memories they stirred, were making the dark chakra rise. And she didn't want that. She needed this moment to be pure, to be free from her hate.

And then she envisioned her plan. The thing she saw inside the vault in Itachi's illusion.

And the dark chakra subsided.

_Okay. It's ready. _She pulled two of her thin blades from the recesses of her kimono. _And now it's time to-_

She froze when she felt it. A wave of hatred, stronger than anything she had felt before.

She stared at Sasuke's face through the black flames. Anything that was human about his expression had vanished, replaced by an animalistic fury.

In her heart, she knew what had happened. He had surrendered himself to the darkness. He had discarded his humanity. And she knew that there was no way for him to return to the light.

And something else was happening. She felt a strong conjuration being woven. And it was coming from Sasuke.

She watched him advance toward her, oblivious to the black flames. As he walked, a dark force, so powerful that she could see it, was encircling him. That force smothered the flames around him as he came closer

The force began to take the shape of a giant warrior. It even started forming arms, and one of those arms was holding a spear.

She took one of her blades and jabbed the back of her hand. As she did, she stared at Sasuke's hand. She felt her panic rise when she saw that he didn't register the pain, or that his hand didn't trickle with blood as hers did.

_Oh shit._

"Only the power of God can reach me here," he said.

As he came closer, the shape of the warrior became more defined. What ever this jutsu was, she had only seconds before it was complete.

_Okay. Time for my last trick._

She reached out her hand and extended a chakra string from it. It snaked around the tree and latched onto its target. As she watched the tip of the warrior's spear pull back and prepare to strike, she drew in the string, bringing Samahada into her hand.

_This is just chakra. Nothing more._ She leapt forward and launched her attack. _Samehada's favorite food._

She slashed and hacked at the warrior, tearing off chunks of its armor. Then, when its foul flesh was exposed, she began to tear through that with the sword.

_Almost there. One more layer and I'll-_

Samehada shot spikes through her hand. She dropped it. From the angry feelings she felt from it, she knew that the blade couldn't tolerate any more of the dark chakra.

Even though her sword hand was bleeding, she saw that Sasuke's did not._ It wasn't enough. It didn't work._

_It's over._

She backed up as she watched the warrior begin to weave itself back together. When she backed into a tree, she looked down. She was in the center of the useless symbol.

This was the spot where she hoped her life would finally begin. Now, she realized that it would become the place where her foolishness will end.

_I'm sorry, Naruto. I couldn't keep my promise._

In her mind, she pictured Naruto, standing in the flattened remains of Konoha, facing this monstrosity. And the things it would do to him..

_No. There's still one more chance. The biggest longshot in history._

She stared up at the warrior, into his dark, brutal eyes. She spoke the forbidden words. "Jashin-sama. Grant me your power. And I shall be your faithful servant. Until, in death, we are reunited once more."

She had no reason to expect that anything would happen. But then she felt a rush of power through her, one she had never felt before. And then she felt Sasuke's energy, almost as dark as her own.. They were linked once more.

She looked down at her hands. Her skin was turning black.

_Jashin's power. The power of the God of Death._

She held up her two daggers. The warrior was about to strike and there was no time to experiment. She gritted her teeth and looked down at the two sharpened tips.

And then she drove her head downward, plunging the knives into her eyes

The most horrible thing wasn't the screaming pain. It was that terrible feeling of invasion, of feeling something entering a place within her that nothing was ever supposed to enter. The rape of the eye.

As she cried out and felt the jelly drip onto her cheeks, she had the small comfort of knowing that Naruto, at least, would be safe. What was happening to her was also happening to Sasuke. And without his eyes, he wasn't a threat to anyone.

Anyone except her, of course. She held onto her daggers. With no sight and no jutsu, these would be her only defense.

But then she felt something she had never expected. The jelly started crawling up her cheeks, toward her eyes.

A moment later, she began to sense a patch of light within the darkness. That patch grew larger and brighter. Soon, she began to recognize shapes within it. Then, all at once, her vision became perfectly clear.

The black flames were gone. All she could see before her was the naked body of Sasuke, rolling on the ground, writhing in pain as he clutched at his wounded eyes.

It was a sight that almost inpired her to feel pity for him. Almost.

She unfastened her obi and let the fabric of her kimono slip from her shoulders. She had fantasized about this moment so many times over the past three years. But now, as her fingers parted the folds of her flesh and she felt her pleasure rise once more, the desires within her were completely different. No longer did she allow her hate to rise. Now, she drew on a different power, a golden light, that began to fill her as she stroked herself.

She grinned when she saw Sasuke's virginal flesh stand erect, pulsing even as he screamed in agony.

A few months ago, the delicious horror of that sight would have sent her into orgasm. But that would have woken the dark chakra. Now, as he had done with Kisame, she kept picturing her plan. The realization that it would soon become reality made her pleasure start to peak. Just as she was about to spill over the edge, she stopped.

_Okay, Sasuke Uchiha. It's payback time._

"You took my family from me," she said as she walked toward him. "And my village. And my faith in humanity. Today is finally the day when you give all that back to me."

He grimaced in pain as he listened to her speak. She stepped across his body and stood over him, one foot on either side of his hips.

She looked down at him for a second, at his face which was twisted with pain and terror. And at his penis, which stood as straight and hard as an iron rod.

She lowered herself down until she was squatting over him, her hips above his. Then she reached between her legs and grabbed his flesh.

"Fuck you, Sasuke Uchiha." And with that, she brought her weight down upon him, enveloping his flesh with hers.

They were so close that it only took a moment. She felt his cock begin to pulse inside her and then she felt her own orgasm, hitting her like a tidal wave.

As she felt the waves of pleasure course through her, she kept picturing her plan. It was the only way to keep the dark chakra from rising. That was the knowledge she had gained from seducing Kisame. That was the reason she had risked her life to be with him. If she could keep the dark chakra at bay, especially at this moment, then her plan had a chance.

A minute later, she raised her hips and released his softening flesh. He had passed out from the pain and shock.

She rose and looked down at him for a moment. She had always thought of this moment as the end of her nightmare. She had wanted this to be the climax of her revenge, and she didn't know or care what came after it. But after her time with the Akatsuki, she had come to see it as the beginning of something else. Something better. Something worth living for.

* * *

Sakura hurried to get dressed. The Leaf had probably realized that they were missing a Hokage, and it wouldn't be long before she was surrounded by ANBU's finest. She knew they wouldn't stop and listen to the truth. They would go straight for the kill and then make up any story they liked.

As she finished strapping on the Executioner's Blade, she heard something crash through the trees. She reached down and gently took up Samehada. "Shhh," she whispered to it. "I won't make you eat any more nasty chakra."

But Samehada wouldn't settle down. Neither would her belly. There was something disturbing about the people who were rushing in from the east. She could sense another energy, one even more murderous than the dark chakra. And it was coming closer.

She looked around her. Everywhere, in every direction, she heard footsteps running through the thick underbrush. And from them, she also sensed that same foul energy, as though someone had torn open the mouth of Hell and forced it to vomit its inhabitants into the world of men.

Her grip tightened around Samehada. At the same time, she laid her other hand on her belly to calm it. "Steady," she said to the blade. "No matter what comes through those trees, we will stand and we will fight."

But then something caught her eye. Up in trees, just below the thick canopy of leaves, she saw a shape jump from branch to branch. It stopped three hundred meters away and then it stared down at her.

When she saw that the figure wore an orange jumpsuit, she felt her anxiety fade away. It was Naruto.

She saw Naruto cup his hand and put it to his face. "Found him! And you won't believe who's with him!"

He disappeared. And then, all around her, she felt the obscene chakra fade away.

_Were those...Naruto's shadow clones? How could there have been so many? Why did they feel like that?_

A minute later, she saw Naruto running through the underbrush toward her. And, following right behind, was his lecherous teacher, the one who called himself Jiraya.

When he arrived, he looked at Sakura, and then at Sasuke, and then at Sakura again. His mouth moved but no words came out.

"I kept my promise," she said. "I didn't kill him. If you want him, take him. I got what I came for."

Jiraya glanced at Sasuke's naked body and then he gave Sakura a goofy grin. He pointed at himself. "Can I be your next opponent?"

She scowled at him.

Naruto stepped tward her. "You've got to go, Sakura-chan. The ANBU are right behind us. Dozens of them. If they catch you here, they'll-"

"I know, Naruto," she said. She hoisted Samehada and rested its weight on her shoulder. She turned to the west. "I'll return this sword to its owner, and then I'll go my own way. By the time they arrive, I'll be long gone."

"Will I ever see you again?" he said, his voice filled with longing.

She turned, just enough to glance at him from the corner of her eye. She smiled.

"Yes."

And then she was gone.

* * *

Ten months later, Sakura crept toward the front gate of the Hidden Leaf Village. Even though the moon was new that night, she tiptoed through the darkness as quietly as she could.

Then, as she heard the first tolls of the midnight bell, she saw the gate creak open. A moment later she saw Naruto's face appear. He used his hand to silently beckon her inside. When she did, she heard Naruto close the gate as quietly as he could.

They kept to the shadows, slipping through the empty backstreets. Fortunately, her parents lived only a hundred meters from the entrance.

* * *

When Sakura entered the house Naruto remained outside to keep watch. At least that's what he told her.

He couldn't deny that he was happy for her. She hadn't seen her parents in years, and it must have felt good to be with them again.

But as he heard the crying and tears fade away and listened to smiling voices begin to tell stories, he looked away, keenly feeling the empty space inside him. After all, he had no one to talk to but the stone faces of the Hokages, silently watching over the sleeping village.

Ten months ago, there were only five faces up there. These days, it seemed almost sinful to picture the monument without Granny Tsunade's face tacked onto the end.

There was a time when Naruto dreamed of putting his own face up there. It was a kid's dream, of course. If his face was on the hillside, he once thought, then everybody would have to call him "Hokage-sama." And not "the demon" or "the bastard of that red-headed slut" or, worst of all, simply pointing and calling him "it."

He had outgrown that dream. As Jiraya had once told him, the Hokages didn't put their faces up there to be worshipped and adored. They were to remind everyone, every single person, that they were not alone. That there were indeed heroes in this cold, grey world. Those who battled the strong to defend the weak. Those who fought for justice and honor and peace. Those who kept the Will of Fire alive.

He still dreamed of putting his face up there, of course. But not because he expected everyone to suddenly stop hating him once it was there. He knew better than that. He had earned their hatred. They were right to fear him, to grab their children and lock their doors when he passed by.

But if he could earn their hatred, could he not also earn their trust? If he had destroyed, could he not also build? If he inspired fear, could he not also inspire love? Why couldn't he be the hero?

Then he remembered why. And his weak smile faded.

He stared at the ground for a minute. Then he balled his hands into fists and turned to the stone faces. "And so what? You've killed prople. All of you. I mean, we're all ninjas here. It's kind of what we do for a living."

He stood up straight. "And I know you didn't just kill the bad guys. I mean, we don't get to pick our missions. We get what we get and we don't throw a fit, right? And if you guys killed a lot people who didn't deserve to die, and you still got to be Hokage, then..."

He stood tall. "Then maybe I can too."

He heard the one o'clock bell ring. He turned and knocked on the door to signal Sakura. He touched his belt to make sure he still had his kunai and his scrolls and his smoke bombs. The dangerous part of their mission was about to begin.

Their second stop was on the northern end of the village. That meant cutting through more populated areas. And once they arrived, the space would be too open. There would be nowhere to hide, and the sight of people in such a place in the middle of the night was sure to be noticed.

And if the ANBU attacked, he would have no choice but to defend against that attack. To be the protector. Because that is what a hero does.

He remembered what happened the last time someone dared to attack Sakura in his presence. When they called her a traitor and a slut and a whore. Told him what they would pay to do to her. Or at least pay to watch.

_And if that happens again, then..._

But as they sped through the streets, he knew that this had to be done, despite the danger. They both knew.

They arrived at the cemetary fifteen minutes later. They would be cutting it close. They needed to finish this and then get back to the gate before the changing of the guard at two o'clock.

The graves were on the east side of the cemetery, the side furthest from the faces of the Hokages. The dew on the long grass made Naruto's feet wet. Because no one ever visited this side, the grass cutters sometimes forgot to do such a neat job. Then his foot kicked a crumpled beer can,, sending it clattering against a gravestone which had been spraypainted with the words "Burn in hell traitors."

When Sakura shot him an angry look, he shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry."

Just when they arrived at the spot, Naruto turned. He could feel someone behind them. Sakura turned as well.

There, in the gloomy darkness, silhouetted by the reddish sandstone cliffs where the faces of Konoha's heroes watched over the village, was the ample profile of Tsunade Senju. The Sixth Hokage.

Sakura grabbed the sword from her back and held it in her free hand. Naruto drew two kunai from his weapons pouch. Both of them scanned the horizon, searching for the army of ANBU that would come bounding over the cemetery walls.

But no army appeared. It was just her, armed only with a spine of steel and a will of fire. She uncrossed her arms and approached them.

"I usually assign midnight guard shifts as a punishment," she said as she walked. "So when you came bounding into my office asking for one, I was suspicious. And when you begged to guard a specific gate at a specific time, I knew for sure."

She sighed. "For the record, girl, I don't hold you responsible for the death of Kakashi Hatake. He knew the risks. He chose to stay in the Land of Waves and face the Demon of the Mist with three newly-minted genin at his side. Why such a smart man would do such a foolish thing, I'll never know."

She stepped forward and put her face in Sakura's. "But nothing can mitigate the fact that you willingly joined forces with the enemies of this village. With Zabuza and the Akatsuki. You weren't simply their prisoner. You willingly..." She circled her fingers as she searched for the right word., "..._collaborated _with them. And that betrays everything my grandfather stood for. This cannot be forgiven."

She reached over and grabbed one of Naurto's kunai. She held it where Sakura could see it. "I have lifted the order of death against you. With one exception. If you ever dare to come back to this village again..." She closed her fist and the thick metal of the kunai bent like tin foil. "...then I'll _destroy_ you."

Sakura raised her sword a little higher. But that motion, as well as the sound of Tsunade's voice, made the bundle in her other arm start to move. Soon, a cry wailed up from it.

Tsunade looked down at the bundle and gave a half-smile. "Boys," she said. "They always cry the loudest."

She turned her back to Tsunade. She set down her sword and pulled the top of her robe to the side. "Pardon me, Hokage-sama. He's probably hungry."

Naruto nearly pulled a muscle in his neck. He was caught between his need to respect Sakura's privacy and his own desire to peek at the body which haunted his dreams.

"How's Sasuke?" said Tsunade. "If you'd send me status reports like I'd ordered, I wouldn't have to ask."

Naruto turned to face her. "He tried to kill me today. Twice." Then he smiled. "But only twice. So he's gotten a lot better." Then he turned to the west and stared up at the stone faces. "But I think I've figured out how to reach him. How to make him see things differently." He glanced at Tsunade again. "I'll tell you about it later."

Tsunade glanced at her watch when she heard the bell strike the half-hour. Then she looked over at the graves of Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha, who were Sasuke's parents. "Once you've said your hellos to the baby's grandparents, Naruto, escort your friend to the front gate. And then tell her goodbye." She glared at Sakura. "You will _never_ see her again."

"Perhaps the next Hokage might be a little more lenient," said Sakura as she glanced at Naruto.

Tsunade also glanced at Naruto. Then she shook her head. "By that time, I'm hoping he might be a little more sensible."

Naruto scratched his head. He couldn't figure out who they were talking about.

Tsunade started to walk away. Then she turned and stamped her foot. "Why? You went through all that trouble. For a _baby_?"

Sakura looked down at her son and smiled as she watched him fill his belly. "Sasuke took my family from me. So I took one from him. He took my village from me. So I'll make my own village. A place where all your lies will become the truth. A place where the strong protect the weak. Not the highest bidder. Maybe this village will be just him and me." She glanced at Naruto again. "Or maybe I will find others who are _sensible_ enough to have the same dream."

She looked down at her son again. She smiled wider. "And my faith in humanity? I've got all the faith I need right here."

* * *

Six hours later, Sakura wheeled her baby cart down the Old Forest Road, away from the village. It felt good to be able to walk openly through the Land of Fire, but she regretted not being able to see her parents again.

Just then, she felt a presence behind her. It was just like that time she was mysteriously summoned by Kakuzu. She slowly turned, keeping her hand near the handle of her blade.

But she saw nothing behind her.

When she turned around, however, she was shocked when she saw a figure in a black robe that was printed with a pattern of red clouds. Her shock diminished when she saw that the figure wore an orange mask with one eyehole.

She scowled at the figure. "What do you want, Tobi? If you're here for a second chance at romance, then you're asking the wrong person."

"No," he said in his sing-song voice. "I'm just here to see the baby"

She pulled the cart back, away from him.

"Don't be like that, Haruno-sama. After all, you owe me. When you left, everything changed. All the birds flew the coop, and the only person left to play with is Mister Zetsu-san." He leaned toward her and whispered. "And, just between you and me, he's a little too crazy for my taste."

She steered the cart around him. "That's nice, Tobi. But I have my own things to do."

As she passed him, he spoke again. This time, his voice was loud and clear and dripped with hatred. "You took my army from me. You even took Sasuke, my ace in the hole."

She turned to look at him. She peered into his eyehole.

He glanced down at the baby. "Such a handsome boy. He has his mother's good looks." Then he leaned closer to her. "And his father's _eyes_."

Her own eyes went wide. There, inside the darkness of his mask, she could see the Sharingan eye.

"You took away my hope for the future," he said. "And, someday soon, I will come to take away yours."

Her hand reached for the handle of her blade. But by the time she grabbed it, Tobi had disappeared.

* * *

**END OF PART 1**


	17. The Deal

**Part 2: The Education of Sasuke Uchiha**

* * *

**The Deal**

* * *

When Sakura awoke, she was underwater. Her body hurt and the salty water stung her wounds.

She willed her eyes to open. The sea around her was warm and dark and silent. For a moment, she wondered if it wouldn't be such a bad thing to shut her eyes again and let the weight of her sword carry her further down into the sea's embrace. Slowly, her heavy eyelids flickered and began to droop. _No, that wouldn't be such a bad thing at all._

Just as her eyes were about to close, she noticed that a red-orange glow was piercing the dark water from above. _From...the boat?_

Her eyes snapped open. _The baby!_

She fought her way to the surface. When she burst through the waves, she sucked in air and whirled about, searching for the houseboat. At first, all she could see were dark shapes floating next to her in the water. After a couple of blinks to clear her vision, she recognized what they were: the blackened corpses of the houseboat's pilot and of the baby's nursemaid.

She turned. Thirty meters away, she saw the houseboat. It was on fire. Flames were spewing from the blown-out windows. Part the shattered roof collapsed, sending bright red sparks into the smoky air. On the rear deck,, silhouetted by the inferno, was a man who wore a black robe with a pattern of red clouds. His face was covered by an orange mask with only a single eyehole. Cradled in his arms was the baby.

For the first time in a year, she felt her body flood with dark chakra. The world turned red.

"Give him back!"

"Temper, temper," said Tobi in his sing-song voice. "I thought you had more control than that."

She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering with pure hate. She locked her eyes on the baby's face, concentrating on her son rather than the _thing_ holding him. Slowly, she felt the dark chakra begin to loosen its grip on her.

"That's better," said Tobi. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to this precious little bundle of joy."

The tiny child began to stir and stretch. He looked up at the masked man. When Tobi waved his hand over the baby's face, the boy closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

"I like the houseboat idea," he said, looking at the burning ruins around him. "Very clever. It was so hard to find you again." He tilted his head. "But your servants, they were a lot easier to find. Eventually, they _had _to come ashore. So instead of looking for you, I had Zetsu look for anybody who uttered the words 'pink-haired bitch.' Didn't take very long after that."

"Give him back," said Sakura. "Or I'll kill you."

Tobi shrugged. "Can't kill someone who's already dead. And besides, you owe me. You took away my hope for the future. Now I'm taking it back." He stood a little taller and tilted his head back as though he was looking down his nose at her. "Just like you did with Sasuke-kun."

"Revenge? Is that why you're here?"

He shook his head. "What I came for is a sacrifice. And he's perfect for it." He looked up at the clear blue morning sky. The dim face of the full moon hung above the horizon. "When that moon is full again, I will use this child's body to summon the full power of Madara Uchiha."

Sakura saw that the flames had now reached the edges of the rear deck. In a minute, there would be nothing left for him to stand on. "You would do that? Kill a child? For power?"

His mask tilted to the side. "Welcome to the Shinobi world. Isn't sacrificing children to gain power what we're all about? Isn't that the heart of the Shinobi way? Besides, how many people's sons and daughters have you killed to get stronger? Did you ever bother to keep count?"

"No," she said as she dog-paddled to keep herself afloat. "The only one I'm going to count..." She gave him a twisted smile. "...is _you_."

With that, five of Sakura's shadow clones leapt through the flames, swinging their huge swords at Tobi's head and legs. The sixth clone, unarmed, leapt to catch the baby before Tobi's corpse toppled into the water or fell backwards into the fire.

But none of the swords hit their targets. All passed through Tobi's body as though he was a ghost.

Then her eyes locked onto the sixth clone, the one reaching for the baby. For a brief moment, she thought it had closed its arm around the child. But her heart fell when she watched the clone pass through her son's body as well.

Then she saw something she had never expected. Tobi's mask was flying upwards, over his head, and she didn't know why. She had seen all five swords miss their targets. By the time the mask hit the surface of the burning deck, she realized what had happened. The sixth clone, the one reaching for the baby, had the presence of mind to reach forward and knock the bottom edge of Tobi's mask, sending it upwards to blind him. Her fingers must have arrived a split-second before the swords did.

"Very clever," said Tobi. "You're always so very clever. How does it feel to be so clever?" He stroked the baby's face and spoke with a voice that dripped with venom. "Bet you're not feeling so smart right now. Are you?"

Just as she opened her mouth to hurl her reply, she looked at his face. The words stuck in her throat. The left side of his face looked exactly as she had expected: He had a lean, triangular face that was framed by dark hair, just like Itachi and Sasuke and every other Uchiha that had ever lived. But his left eye was closed. Judging from the way his eyelids sank into it, she could see that his left eye was just an empty cavity.

The other half of his face was ruined and broken. Ugly, pale scars ran across the right side of his head, as though it had been torn apart and then glued back together. The most disturbing part of it was the red Sharingan eye, which amplified the cruelty of his hateful stare.

He produced a kunai from the folds of his robe and slashed the neck of the unarmed clone. The clone grabbed at her spurting arteries before disappearing.

The other five clones sprang into action, realizing that Tobi could only make that attack if he was solid flesh. One chopped at his neck but the sword passed right through; the moment it did, he lashed out, stabbing the clone in the belly. The third and fourth clones did no better. As soon as their swords passed through his legs, he became solid and attacked.

The fourth and fifth clones stood for a moment, sizing up their prey. Then one of them launched forward, swinging at Tobi's face. Sakura smiled as watched the other clone use the Blade Shadow technique, keeping her sword hidden behind the shadow of the first.

The first sword passed through Tobi's face; the second one was timed to strike just after that. But the second sword missed as well. A moment later, Tobi quickly dispatched the last two clones.

"You got lucky," he said as he put his blade away. "But you'll never defeat my jutsu. The only other person who could even _touch _me was the Fourth Hokage. And nobody will ever be as fast as him. Especially not someone like you."

He reached down and grabbed his mask. "But just to show you that I'm not such a bad guy, I'll make you a deal." He donned the orange abomination, adjusting it so that his red eye could see through the hole. He jabbed his thumb at the setting moon. "If you can find me before that moon become full again, I'll let you take his place. You die, he lives. Deal?"

"Find you? Where?"

Tobi clicked his tongue. "If I told you that, it would take all the fun out of it." He held up his index finger. "Okay. I'll give you one clue. Go to the place where ninjutsu was born. That's where you can find me."

"To the place where..._what_?"

He clicked his tongue again. "You're a clever girl. I know you can figure it out." He sighed. "And if you can't, then go ask your good buddy Pain. He was always the history buff. He should know exactly where it is."

"Okay," she said, looking around at the expanse of water in every direction. "So where do I find Pain?"

Tobi shrugged. "That's your problem. Not mine. Either way, I get what I want." He jabbed his thumb at the moon again. "You have exactly twenty-eight days. Starting from right now." Then he cupped the top of the baby's head with his palm. "Or this happens." He jerked his wrist as though he was snapping the baby's neck.

He looked at her. "One will live. The other will die. You choose which."

Then he and the baby swirled, as though being sucked up into the hole in his mask. Then they were gone.

A minute later, the burning remains of the houseboat crumbled and snapped and sank beneath the waves. As she watched, Sakura gritted her teeth and struggled to calm herself. She had almost lost herself to the darkness. Just as Sasuke did.

* * *

Four days later, Tsunade, the Sixth Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, sat in her office and tapped the top of her desk with the edge of her fist. The more she tapped, the whiter her knuckles became.

Her assistant, Shizune watched her boss's nostrils flare. Shizune reached behind a stack of financial ledgers and pulled out a small glass and a bottle of rice wine.

Tsunade glanced over at her. When she saw the glass and bottle, she gave Shizune a sour look and shook her head.

Shizune reached a little further behind the stack of books and pulled out a much larger glass. When that earned her an angry stare, Shizune shrugged and stowed them all away.

Then Tsunade heard a knock on her door. She huffed and sat up. "Bring her in!"

Two squads of ANBU entered the room and stood guard on either side of the doorway. Two more squads remained outside in the hall to stand guard. The fifth squad shoved Sakura forward, careful to keep an eye on her bound hands to make sure she didn't start forming handsigns.

Tsunade leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. She looked Sakura up and down. She frowned and slammed her open palm on the top of her desk. Then she sprang to her feet. "Girlie, you better have the best goddamned reason on earth for coming back here." As she finished saying that, Tsunade slammed her fist down onto the desk. It split in half and collapsed.

Tsunade looked down at the broken pile of wood and bared her teeth. She huffed with disgust and turned to Shizune. In a low voice she said, "Go tell Captain Yamato that I need his services again."

Tsunade tried not to smile. "Yes, Hokage-sama."

Sakura's face was red with rage. "He took my son. Tobi of the Akatsuki. The one with the orange mask."

Tsunade stood and studied Sakura's face for a moment. Then she turned to Shizune, who was squeezing her way through the crowd of ANBU at the door. "And tell Naruto to come up here too."

Shizune froze. She looked back at her boss. The color had drained from her face. After a moment, she said, "Y-Yes, Hokage-sama."

A minute later, Tsunade heard Yamato's voice in the hallway, saying, "Stand aside." The men in the hallway made room for him to enter and saluted as he passed. He didn't return the gesture. Instead he reached forward and grabbed Sakura by the hair, pulling her head back until her throat was exposed.

"Who caught her?" he said to the men. When none of them responded, he pulled a kunai from his pouch and laid the sharp edge of it across Sakura's neck. "Permit me the honor, Hokage-sama. It doesn't matter who gets the credit for the kill. I just want the satisfaction."

Tsunade shook her head. "She surrendered herself, Captain. And when she's done here, which is in about two minutes, she's going to walk out of this village and never come back. Isn't that right, girlie?" Before Sakura could respond, Tsunade added, "Now tell your story. The short version. Believe me, I do _not _have all day to listen to this."

Sakura shot Yamato a dirty look when he released her and put away his blade. "Tobi of the Akatsuki took my son. Four days ago. We were off the coast of the Land of Tea and he just appeared out of nowhere. Told me that when the next full moon comes, he's going to sacrifice my son. To summon Madara Uchiha's power or something like that."

"A lie, Hokage-sama," said Yamato. "As we both know very well." He looked at Sakura. "Because four days ago, we were both in the Land of Iron, five hundred kilometers from there, when we, uh..." He glanced over at Tsunade.

She crossed her arms. "I'll tell her. By tonight, everybody's going to know anyway." She took a breath. "Over the past month, the five great ninja villages have suffered a series of attacks, all by a man wearing a black Akatsuki robe and an orange mask. He appears suddenly, attacks some heavily-guarded target, and then disappears without a trace. The last time he attacked Konoha, he broke into the prison and made off with a rogue medical ninja named Shinno."

"Ten of my men were killed in that attack," said Yamato. "Good men. Men who fought to uphold the honor of this village." He shot Sakura an angry glance. "Just like the men you had slaughtered over these past four years."

Sakura bared her teeth. "_You _were the ones hunting _me_, remember? I had a right to defend myself."

"You should have taken your own life," said Yamato. "Instead of spreading your legs for the enemy."

"Enough!" said Tsunade. "Long story short, we met with the other village leaders to make a plan of attack. The masked man appeared. He told us that he was Madara Uchiha and that he had declared war against us. He told us the story of the ten-tailed beast and how he was going to become its host. And when he did, he was going to use its power to cast an infinite illusion over the Shinobi world, bringing about our total destruction."

Yamato clicked his tongue. "As if such a thing was possible."

Tsunade put her hands on her hips. "Whether you believe him or not, he was able to fight off the five Kages _and _their bodyguards _and _about a hundred armed Samurai warriors. Didn't even put a scratch on him."

"He can teleport," said Sakura. "Doesn't need handsigns, either. He can do it in an instant and go anywhere he wants." She tilted her head back. "And he's an Uchiha. He's got the Sharingan eye."

"That doesn't mean he's an Uchiha," said Yamato. "Kakashi-sempai had the Sharingan. Maybe someone else has discovered how to transplant eyes."

"He's an Uchiha, alright," said Sakura. "I saw his face." When Tsunade cocked her head and gave her an unbelieving stare, Sakura said, "I got lucky and knocked his mask off. He told me that the only other person who could touch him was the Fourth Hokage."

Tsunade frowned. "No. Minato-kun never fought an Uchiha." Then she thought for a moment. Her eyes widened. "Unless..."

Yamato stared at her for a moment. Then his eyebrows rose.

"I don't understand," said Sakura.

Tsunade turned to face her. "You don't have to understand, girlie." She held her head high as she walked toward Sakura. "So you came here, defying my orders, to beg for my help. And you expected me, on the eve of total war, to give you one of my valuable ninjas to help you on your wild goose chase."

Sakura stared straight ahead. "I came for Naruto. He's the only one of you bastards I trust."

"I _know _who you came for!" Tsunade shoved her face in Sakura's. "I've always known. That someday you would come back here, spouting some story about how you needed his help to go save the world or defeat the ultimate evil or some nonsense like that. That you needed his power to fight for truth and justice and the Shinobi way." Then, in a slow, sad voice, she said, "And he would go with you. Because that's who he is."

Sakura saw Tsunade's hand shoot up. She felt the Hokage's hand grab the back of her head. The fingers gripped her skull like an iron vise.

Tsunade's nose nearly touched Sakura's. "I swore that I'd keep that from happening. That's why I told you to stay away. And if you were stupid enough to come back here anyway, then I was prepared to stop you." Her grip tightened. "To crush you. Like a bug."

Sakura's brow furrowed, even as her skin was stretched tight over her skull. "Why do you care? After the all shit you guys have put him through? I thought you'd be happy to see him go."

Tsunade stared at her face for a long moment, as though she was scrutinizing Sakura's expression. Finally, she said, "Why do you want him so badly? What is this special thing he can do that nobody else can?"

Sakura looked into Tsunade's eyes. Then her gaze drooped. "Because I can't do this by myself. Even now, it's taking all I've got. If I lose control again, I don't know if I can..." She lifted her head and looked down her nose at Tsunade, trying to fake a look of haughty confidence. "You know those things they taught us in the Ninja Academy? Well, he's probably the only one in this village who still believes in all that."

She lowered her head. "And when I'm with him, or with my son, I..." She closed her eyes. "I believe it too." She took a breath. "I need him. Until I get my son back, he'll keep me from losing my humanity. From turning into what Sasuke is. A complete monster."

Tsunade released her grip on Sakura's head. She gave her a half-smile. "Sasuke, huh? That's what you'll turn into? An irredeemable, unreachable, inhuman monster?"

She walked over to the window again, but this time she looked downward, at the people milling in the street, oblivious to the approaching shadow of war. "Let me tell you something, girlie. I used to be just like you. My grandfather, the First Hokage, was the one who wrote those scrolls you studied in school. He believed every word of it. And so did I."

She sighed. "But those words didn't reach the heart of Madara Uchiha, my grandfather's one-time friend. When he failed to win the title of Hokage, Madara left the village. He said the First was shortsighted and was sending Konoha down the wrong path. Then he began attacking the village he helped create. My grandfather was forced to act. They battled at a place called the Valley of the End and Madara was killed."

"Did you remember his face?" said Sakura. "Madara's? What it looked like?"

Tsunade huffed. "Please. I'm not _that _old. I was born afterwards, just a few years before the First Shinobi War." She sighed. "I remember when that war started. It swept over the village like a red tide. I remember how my grandfather's smile left his face and never came back. He sacrificed his life trying end the violence, but even his death wasn't enough."

She glanced back at Sakura and then watched the street once more. "When the war was over, we thought we'd never fight another. Then came the second Shinobi war, not twenty years later. I gladly marched into the Land of Rain with Jiraya and Orochimaru, still believing in the Will of Fire. Then we fought against Hanzo the Salamander. We all got a cold, hard lesson on what the Shinobi world was really about."

Her eyes grew wide and glassy. "I watched all my friends die, one by one. I buried my brother and my fiancée. I lost my teammates to madness and perversion. And I lost my faith." She took another breath. "And everytime I thought I had lost everything, life kept showing me there was always more to lose. After the war, I took off my headband and left the village. I thought I had hit rock bottom. But as the years passed, I discovered that there is no such thing. I just kept falling and falling."

Then Tsunade's eyes locked on to a young man running toward the Hokage's Hall, one who had bright yellow hair and an orange jumpsuit a few sizes too small for his growing body. The fog lifted from her eyes and she stood erect. "We're not so different, Sakura. I used to hate this village as much as you do."

As she watched the young man approach the front door, she smiled. "But then I met someone who made me believe in it again. Who made me want to come back here and turn my grandfather's dreams into reality. Who made me dare to hope again." Then her eyes locked onto a second young man, who followed close behind the first. Her smile grew wider. "Who rescued me from the darkness."

She turned to Yamato. "Her two minutes are up. Release her. Give her back her sword and send her on her way. And take those ropes off of her." As Yamato pulled out his blade again, Tsunade strode to the door and shouted down the hallway. "Shizune! Send Naruto up here. _Just _Naruto."

Yamato started cutting through Sakura's bonds. "Are you certain about this, Hokage-sama? Do you know how many men she's killed?"

She shot Yamato a glance. "And you think it's a better idea to let Naruto come up here and see her tied up like that?"

He started cutting faster.

Tsunade crossed her arms and looked over her shoulder at Sakura. "If you had told me anything else, girlie, he'd be using that knife to cut up your corpse right now. Don't forget that. And don't let anything happen to Naruto. Or I'll hunt you down myself."

Sakura rubbed her aching wrists. "You're letting me have him?"

Tsunade hesitated for a moment. Before she could speak, she was interrupted by the staccato of footsteps in the hall.

Naruto stood before the Sixth Hokage. "Granny Tsunade, what did you-" His words froze when he saw Sakura in the Hokage's office, surrounded by the ANBU. "Sakura-chan!" The smile left his face. "What's wrong? What happened?"

She opened her mouth to reply but no words came out. She was shocked to see an eyepatch wrapped around Naruto's head, covering his left eye. When she regained her composure, she said, "What happened to your eye? Did you get hurt?" Her wide eyes narrowed. "Did Sasuke hurt you?"

"No," he said. "That's not it at all." The corner of his lip curled with a sly smile. "In fact, it's just the opposite. I finally figured out how to get him to see eye-to-eye with me."

When Sakura stepped toward Naruto, one of the ANBU started to move his hands to grab her. As he did, he saw that Tsunade was giving him a stern look. He stopped and dropped his hands as gracefully as he could.

"They took Kizashi," said Sakura. "They took my son."

"Your son?"

When Sakura heard those words, when she realized whose voice had said them, she bared her teeth, Unconsciously, her body crouched for attack. Inside her belly, the dark chakra began to surge.

With each approaching footstep, her heart was shot through with terror. Her hands tightened into fists. Without her sword, they would be her only defense.

"Your son?" said the voice again. "_Our _son?"

She pushed Naruto aside and stepped into the hall. Every cell of her body was primed to attack. In her mind, she pictured his face. The angry red eyes. The animalistic fury. The dark monstrosity of his evil energy.

But when she finally saw Sasuke's face, she was again paralyzed with shock. Her eyes quivered, trying to understand what she could clearly see. Instead of angry red eyes, or empty bleeding eye sockets, she saw that he was wearing the same type of eyepatch as Naruto. It covered his right eye. What shocked her even more was his left eye. It was blue, just like Naruto's. And it was crying.

"I...have a son?" he said. "When were you going to tell me?"

Naruto stepped between them. "When you made a full recovery," he said. "Otherwise you might have tried to go off and see him, and you couldn't have seen him since you didn't have any..." Naruto tapped his eyepatch. "...well, you know."

Sakura put her hands on her hips. "And that's assuming I would let you. Maybe everybody else here has amnesia, but I remember everything just fine. How you tore me apart with your bare hands. How you impaled me with your sword. How much you _enjoyed _that. How much of a monster you became when you-"

"Monster?" said Sasuke. "I'm the monster? What does that make you? You possessed me. And stabbed out my eyes. And then you..." He looked away. "Was that why you did it? To impregnate yourself?" Then he glared at her. "Was that your plan? To torture me even more by taking away my family _again_? If you want to know who the real monster is, Sakura, then-"

"Enough!" said Tsunade.

"Guys," said Naruto, holding up his hands to keep them separated. "This isn't helping us get the baby back. We're comrades. Remember? Team Seven? Team Kakashi?" He grabbed Sakura's hand and Sasuke's hand, and pulled the two closer to each other. "C'mon, guys. Shake hands."

Sakura yanked her hand away. "Forget it, Naruto. I don't even want to be on the same continent as him. Let's just go. Sasuke knows how to take care of himself." She scowled at the Uchiha. "His kind always does."

Naruto shook his head. "It's too soon. He still needs me. And I'm not going without him."

Sakura's mouth hung open. But before she could fire off her reply, Tsunade interrupted. "Fantastic idea. The three of you will go and rescue this baby from the masked man." She then turned to Yamato. "And you, Captain, will lead them."

This time, it was Yamato's turn to stare with his mouth hanging open. Finally, he stood erect, delivered a salute and said, "Yes, Hokage-sama."

Yamato turned to the ANBU. "Men! The Hokage will announce the declaration of war in two hours, and you will ensure that every ninja in this village is present to hear it. Dismissed."

When the men had left, Tsunade turned to Yamato and his new squad. "Captain, stay for a moment. The rest of you, grab your gear and assemble by the main gate."

Yamato watched them go. Then he spoke to Tsunade. "Why?"

She crossed her arms. "Why am I sending you along with them? You know why."

"But why are you letting them go in the first place? We know the enemy is after Naruto. Wouldn't he be safer if he stayed here?"

She gave him a half-smile. "Or if we marched with him at the head of our army? It seems obvious to me that this so-called war is just a diversion, something to make it easier for them to snatch him. We all might be a little safer if we just let them do their little wild goose chase for the next few weeks."

"And if you're wrong, Hokage-sama?"

She shook her head. "You saw what the masked man could do. If he decides to show up here, can you guarantee me that your men can stop him?" Before he could reply, she said, "Because there's ten fresh graves in the cemetery which tell me you can't."

He frowned. "What about Zabuza's whore? She's extremely dangerous. You know how many of my men she's murdered?"

Tsunade looked him in the eye. "Yes. She will be extremely dangerous." She held up her finger. "Especially to anybody who might try to take Naruto away."

He stared at her finger for a moment. Then he set his jaw and nodded his head. "Understood, Hokage-sama." Then he performed a handsign and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

She stamped her foot and waved the smoke away. "How many times do I have to tell you people not to do that in my goddamned office!" Then she looked down at her broken desk. She stamped her foot again. "And he got away without fixing it." She huffed. "It'll just have to wait until we come back from the war." She turned and looked through the window, at the face of her grandfather. She sighed. "Assuming we come back at all."

Shizune peeked around the corner of the door. When she saw that the coast was clear, she entered the room. "You have a couple of hours before you give your speech, Hokage-sama." She went over to the stack of financial ledgers and pulled out the bottle and the small glass. "Do you need to do a little...preparation?"

Tsunade put her hands on her hips. "A speech of this magnitude and you think _that's _how I want to prepare for it?"

Shizune stowed the small glass behind the ledgers. "Of course not, Hokage-sama." Then she pulled out the large glass and began to fill it.

Tsunade glanced out at the street, at all the happy people who went about their business, oblivious to the approaching spectre of war. Then she slumped into her chair and waited for the first glassful of her own oblivion to be served.


End file.
